Protection and Perversity
by Folieacutie
Summary: At 9:36 AM an owl arrived, and with that came the destruction of Lily Evans holiday. Seeking security, seeking safety, and seeking solace with her constant company will be as trying as anything. After all, it's not everyday that 37 Muggleborns are brutally murdered in their homes. AU.
1. Letters and Letups

**Letters and Letups**

At 9:36 AM An owl arrived. It swooped in through the open kitchen window and clattered unceremoniously onto the table- knocking over several full glasses in the process. I wasn't expecting another owl, since my eyes already stared at the front headline of the Wizarding Daily as it lay hidden in my lap.  
It's not every day that 37 Muggleborns are brutally murdered in their homes. Or, as the Daily Prophet often puts it, "missing."  
Definitely not every day, because I can clearly recall Tuesdays death count was only 24.  
"Damn it Lily!" Petunia screeched, immediately standing up from her chair, "You and your bloody owls!"  
Apparently, one of those full glasses had spilled right over onto Petunia's new jeans.  
Mum quickly reached over and helped.

"Here- Petunia, get a washcloth- Lily, the owl is eating my cereal- "On Sunday there had only been 17 in one night, and one family wasn't even Muggleborns, they were purebloods who openly defied Voldemort in last weeks Issue of... What was it, the Quibbler?  
Cranberry juice streamed down Petunias absent side of the table.  
"Petunia you need warm water- Lily, you could at least take a look at your mail, this owl did just ruin your sisters pants!"  
Although some could argue that the Pureblood family had it coming, publishing an article about it in a magazine and all. I wondered if anyone would say those Muggleborns had it coming too, by not immediately declaring their loyalty to the Dark Lord. Or by, you know, being born to a muggle family.  
The sink was running, and under it was a grumbling Petunia flinging open the bottom cupboards to find a cloth.  
"Oh Petunia go grab the soap-" Mum seized a wad of napkins, reaching to sop up the mess on the table.  
"I am! I am!"  
"Lily the owl!- no, no, Petunia the other soap- Lily!"  
Last Friday there had been reports of MuggleBorns and some HalfBloods saying they would go into hiding if it got any worse.  
"LILY!" My mum brought her fist down onto the table. Another glass fell over. "Shit!"  
I, thankfully, recovered. My fear evaporated. As I leaped up, sheets of newspaper slipped under the table to the floor- no one was the wiser. Before mum could even move, I plucked the ashy colored owl from mums cereal bowl and quickly set it on my shoulder. Then I went to wiping up the puddles, finally setting the cups upright.  
"Thank you." Mum breathed out. She fell back into her chair.  
From the running sink, Petunia scoffed. "Mum, it's her ruddy fault that all of this happened y'know!"  
"I think mum's aware it was the owls fault..." I muttered, the usual bitterness absent. I finally released the letter from the owl's leg.  
The Ministry Seal had been pressed onto the envelope.  
"Isn't it a little early for grades, honey?" Mum asked. She picked from my plate, thinking I wouldn't notice as I unfurled the letter.  
I think I may have nodded.  
"This stupid stain isn't coming out!" petunia sneered.  
I'm unsure how many minutes passed from the moment I read the heading to the moment where I, wide-eyed, reached the bottom of the parchment.  
Frantically I scanned the tiny black printed words again.  
"... What does the message say, Lily?"

For a few seconds words seemed foreign to my tongue. Blinking, I swallowed. "Holy Merlin. I can't believe they're just going... going to do this."

"Do what, finally ship you away for good?" Petunia asked.  
Unknown to her, she wasn't too far off.  
Mum sighed, "Not now Petunia."  
"It's... It's a," the bolded letters didn't waver like my voice did. "It's a Muggleborn Security Relocation Program, conducted by the Ministry Of Magic."  
"No one understood any of that Freak Speak." Petunia informed me, furiously scrubbing her jeans.  
"Oh shut up Petunia," I finally dropped my arms to my sides, "You obviously know what A Muggleborn is! You can't just pretend you don't know _anything_!"  
"What, do you think I actually listen to you when you drone on and on about that insane asylum you go to every year?"  
"Well!" Mum raised her voice, "I know that _I_ have absolutely no idea about the last part, and I think you should explain it so we're all in the loop here!"  
Petunia huffed, but continued rubbing at her stain in silence.  
I decided to start from the beginning. "It has to do with blood status," I began, "Since I'm born to a family of non magical people... I'm at risk."  
Mum raised her brows, eyeing me cautiously. "At risk for what, exactly?"  
A knot of despair grew in my stomach. I had carefully avoided bringing up any news about politics and the evolving war in the wizarding world. All Wizard Daily's were read from my lap, hidden by the table. Even then I usually glanced at the headline (which, for the past few weeks featured news about MuggleBorn killings) and then stashed the paper away until I was in the comfort of my room to finish reading.  
I ducked underneath the kitchen table and popped back up with the Wizard Daily.  
"Some wizards don't think Muggleborns should have magic, that Muggleborns have dirty blood and should be... Well, eradicated." I slid the newspaper over to her.  
For a moment mum was silent, her eyes roaming over the large black letters- the news of 37 murders.  
"Lily," mum leaned her head against her hand, "why did you never mention this? How long..." she looked down at the paper again, unable to finish her question.  
"The killings have only gone on for a month or so. " I reassured her a bit too quickly. "At first it seemed accidental, and papers like the biased Prophet took weeks to even admit some of it, but the Ministry knows that Muggleborns specifically are being targeted." Taking a deep breath I added, "and who's committing them."  
Petunia stopped scrubbing. The sink continued to flow.  
"It's a whole group, they call themselves Death Eaters and their leader is named Voldemort."  
I waited for someone to flinch at the name, but of course they no one did.  
Mum wasn't naive enough to ask 'and why has no one caught them?', knowing fairly well that a situation so dire is more complicated than that. Instead she blew some air out of her nose and nodded slowly.  
"They- the magical police- they are trying to prevent these murders, right?" I was surprised she was taking this so well.  
Fidgeting with my hands, I opened my mouth. "Yeah...they're trying. It's... A difficult task." The owl nipped at my shoulder. "To be honest, the papers probably can't reveal the efforts of the Magical Police- or, they simply don't want to. Either way the public doesn't know a lot about it..."  
"What's written in letter then, it's for your protection?" There was obvious concern in her words.  
I blinked, remembering the letter in my hands.  
"Yes- well no. It's... completely unethical," I said exasperatedly. "What the Ministry is trying to enforce...it's ridiculous." Lifting it up to read, I furrowed my brows. "' _For the protection and security of Muggleborn Students until their return to Hogwarts on September 1st, A relocation program has been conducted by the Ministry of Magic in order to eliminate the Trace on Muggleborns. As known, if the Witch and or Wizard is the only one of their household, the Trace is able to pinpoint the singular Magical Being. By housing the individual with a consenting Wizarding family, the Muggleborn will then be undetected as such, since the Trace will then only determine that more than one Witch and or Wizard belongs to the household.  
_ _"Further security measures will ensure the protection of the Muggleborn, including but not limited to: Possible Housing with A family containing a ministry worker or specifically an Auror, several protection charms and incantations put on the area, and access to The Floo Network for a guaranteed safe escape if needed.  
To participate in this program that ranges from July 7th to September 1st, the parental guardian of Lily Evans who is, as of today, July 5th, under age, must sign below. If the guardian does choose for their child to be relocated, the additional information of their Host Wizarding family will arrive tomorrow, July 6th._'"  
Reaching the end of the letter, I audibly sighed, my shoulders dropping.  
Mum didn't say anything. She stared at the newspaper blankly.  
37 Muggleborns killed.  
"It's ridiculous." I restated after she remained silent, "How does the Ministry just expect me to get up and move, leaving you guys behind while I stay at some strangers house."  
Still, mum gave no reaction.  
"I mean, think about it, I can protect you guys if I'm here! What if Voldermort attacks while I'm away at bloody who knows where? What happens if I'm forced to house with a bunch of witches and wizards who are totally insane? Are the volunteering families even investigated to make sure they're safe? So many things could go wrong."  
"Lily." Mum finally spoke, silencing me immediately. "This evil group, the Death people, they won't have a reason or thought to attack our house as long as it's known that you're not here- because of that magical Trace." Her eyes looked down at the paper, hand curled into fist. "Your life is more important to me than your comfort is, and even if the Wizarding family is awkward, I doubt they would put you in any more danger than you're in right now-"  
"But mum-"  
"No." Her head shot up. "I can't stand to worry about the prospect of you... Being hunted down while you live here. This very house, with Petunia and I in it, apparently makes you stick out-"  
"Yes I know but-"  
"Lily! I will not stand to have your life in danger!" Her voice strained, "You said it yourself, they are trying to eradicate you. They're giving you an option and you are going to take it. I'm- ...I'm not putting you at the risk of becoming another number on-" she furiously lifted the newspaper so I could see the headline, "this death toll!"  
I glanced back up to her face, flushed with anger, eyes full of unshed tears. Suddenly I felt guilty.  
Then she rose from her chair and came to my side, where she, with a blue pen, scribbled her signature.  
The ink glowed, changing from blue to green, and with a tiny hoot, the owl clamped the paper in its beak and departed.

I wasn't sure if wanting to stay made me selfish or not.  
On one hand, if I was able to stay, which I now was unable to, theoretically I would put Mum and Tuney in danger. But if- once I left, they could still...  
Yet, no, they wouldn't be attacked if I wasn't in the picture. I was just unwilling to stay in a strangers house for the remainder of my holiday. I was selfish. Horribly selfish. Mum was right of course, my comfort was little priority over my life- and theirs. How could I even fathom putting them at risk?  
I couldn't, that is until I got the second letter with the additional information.

There was a noise, a persistent tapping.  
"Go away," I groaned.  
 _Tap tap tap  
_ Turning over, I grumbled and pulled my blanket away from my face, eyes crusty and hair matted.  
"What the?" And with a jolt I remembered.  
I, quite literally, tumbled out of bed. My blanket was still wrapped around my leg as I reached and opened the window. A warm gust of air hit my skin.  
The source of the annoying tapping noise was an owl with a letter tied to its right leg. Again, the Ministry's seal kept the envelope closed.  
A mixture of nervousness and dread buzzed around in my stomach. I untied the paper hurriedly, and then slit the envelope open.  
With steady fingers I unfolded the parchment.

 _Lily Evans is to participate in the Muggleborn Security Relocation Program, which is carefully conducted by the Ministry Of Magic to ensure no harm comes to the individual._ The letter went on like this, listing certain conditions and security measures, which were things that I cared about, although not as much as where exactly I was being relocated to.  
Thus, I skimmed, going past phrases "if the individual does not abide..." and "any concerns may be voiced in a separate letter," I finally got to a bolded section.

 _Lily Evans has been relocated to a household that is owned by two ministry workers, specifically Aurors.  
_ _Lily Evans will be escorted, via side-along Apparation, at approximately 8:32 AM on July 7th, to where the Potter family resides.  
_  
"No way."  
I read it again. After my second read-through, the note combusted, leaving only the date and time stamp untouched.  
I barely noticed it, my mind too busy.

"No, no, _no_."  
Staying with the Potters entailed staying with James Potter, the annoying prick who teased me and made a complete fool of himself every time he tried to gain my affections. He attempted it far too often in 4th and 5th year.  
I pressed my hand to my forehead, letting out a breath. "Oh Merlin. I'm staying at James Potter's house. I'd rather be chucked out to the Death Eaters."

I told myself to breathe, to consider that it might not be as horrid as I thought.  
There were a few positives, I reminded myself. As of last year he certainly held back in both the "Hexing random first years" and "composing cringe-worthy situations to impress Lily Evans" departments. While he certainly never stalked me or came close to doing so, his consistent glances lessened, and so did his awkward, complete rubbish, flirty one liners. I could count on one hand the amount of times he had tried (and obviously failed) to charm me with his antics in 6th year. Wow, what a success.  
NEWTS classes proved him to be a bit less annoying. He focused more, pranked less. He became Quidditch Captain and studied in the library pretty often. The lack of classes with the slytherins meant less fights. I'll admit it: some of them were slimy gits... and Sirius' and James' prank on them that one time was kind of funny.

We had even managed to have two civil conversations during Transfiguration- if you could call them conversations; they both went something like: "Ergh, stupid rabbit!"

"You should swish your hand more."

"...Oh, that worked. Thank you Evans."  
Still. That didn't mean we were suddenly going to get along just peachy. And that certainly didn't mean that I wanted to spend two entire months at his house.  
 _Hopefully it won't be a nightmare._

I sighed, not bothering to walk to my bed to sit down. With a flop I spread my limbs across my floor.  
Not even giving me a chance to close my eyes and groan about this whole situation, my door barged open.  
"Lily, I need to borrow your- what the hell are you doing on the floor?"  
I huffed. "Thanks for being so charming Petunia; I'm totally willing to let you borrow my things now."  
She smiled sweetly, "Not a problem. Now where is your mascara? I'm going out with Vernon for brunch and I need it." Her gaze roamed my dresser determinedly.  
Rolling my eyes, I sat up. "I thought you had your own."  
"Then you went and turned it into a rat!"  
She forgot to mention that I did it because she stole half of my closet.  
"I turned it back two days ago!" Heat rose up to my face.  
She looked disgusted. "And you think I would even touch it after that?"  
I clenched my teeth. "If you're so unwilling to use it after a bit of transfiguration, then why are you not opposed to using my mascara when it has been touched by the freak herself!"  
"I wouldn't be here asking you to if you hadn't acted like such a child!"  
"A child? At least I'm not using it to go on a date with Moby Dick!"  
Petunia narrowed her eyes.  
"I bet you're _so glad_ to be going off for the holiday, less time to spend here with people who have problems with your weirdo circus act!"  
"You heard why I can't stay here." I got up from the floor, hands balled into fists. "Don't blame this on me, it's not like I want to live in some stranger's house!"  
"Not blame you?" She spit out, "Even your own freakish ministry is blaming you."  
It felt like I had been hit with a stunning spell.  
"No," with a gulp I added, "the ministry is blaming me for living in a family of non magical people, which includes you. The Trace can only identify me because _I'm_ the sole witch in this house."  
There was a moment of heated silence.  
She opened her mouth, pink gloss tainting her lips. "I don't know why I bothered." Petunia sneered and turned. "Who would want your dirty mascara anyway?"  
Heels clacking, Petunia sauntered back to her room.  
A small part of me hoped I would get a goodbye from her tomorrow.

Panic currently was ensuing.  
Packing was difficult. Figuring out what to pack was a horrid experience.  
I was under in a unique situation. Not only did I have to pack for school, I also had to pack for the holiday. Double the organizing, double the clothing: double the suit cases.  
While I bet James and his family wore casual Wizarding wear, the only wizard clothes I had were my Hogwarts robes and uniforms. Muggle clothes would have to do, then.  
I nearly packed my entire wardrobe, complete with multiple shirts, some for sleeping, most for daily wear, an ugly jumper that was a neon orange and looked awful with my hair, and multiple shorts along with pants.  
Books were a must, and might have to be my savior at the Potter house. I kept it to only seventeen.  
 _Would the potters have a record player? Unlikely_. With my records stowed in the pocket of my case, I closed up my player- I would just have to bring my own.

*  
I rose super early for once, too nauseous to sleep past 5 AM. In the brightening kitchen I sat pretzel style on the stool by the table. Blinking, I tore off a small piece of my strawberry toast and ate it slowly.

As soon as the sun fully rose Petunia stormed down the stairs, hair in its prep stage and half of her outfit as pajamas.  
She let out a dramatic gasp, "Aren't you usually dead until 3 in the afternoon?"  
I sighed. "Not now Tuney, I couldn't sleep...this whole relocation thing is making me nervous."  
She peeked her head from the fridge, "oh. That." She crinkled her nose disdainfully. "So you're not pleased with the situation then?"  
My laugh was bitter, "the fact that I have to leave my house to go live with strangers?" I hadn't told them that I knew exactly whose house I was staying at. "and leave you guys without protection? No, I'm not happy."  
Petunia huffed, and backed away from the open fridge, holding out her hands. "My nail polish hasn't dried yet, grab the milk for me, will you?" Her tone was softer than usual, but still unpleasant.  
I obliged.  
"It seems like we're safer without you here."  
I looked at her, but she was avoiding my gaze.  
"That... Trace thingy... It can be used against you- us." She stated.  
"Yes." I murmured.  
"Then it's better for all of us that you join... Your kind. It's not like you were going to be living here for very long anyway, right? After this school you're going to go off to...m-m-magic university or whatever your type has."  
I set the milk on the table, and wrapped my arms around my torso.  
"I don't mean to act like I'm abandoning you."  
Silence.  
And then...  
"Too late there."  
"Tuney! Seriously!" I raised my arms, "this wasn't my plan either!"  
She turned her back, "I'm going to Vernon's in an hour." Her voice low, distant, matter of fact.  
Tears rose in my eyes, "Are you at least going to say good bye to me then?"  
"Good bye Lily." And she went pass me up the stairs, where I heard her door shut.  
She forgot the milk.

"Are you ready to apparate, Miss Evans?"  
I nodded. We learned how to do it in school last year, so I knew fully well what to expect.  
The man clutched my arm and I sent my mom a watery smile before I felt the pull and darkness consume us.

Even here, it rained.  
All I could see was a large lawn, the bright grass slippery and wilted from the weight of the pouring water. Suddenly a piece of paper was thrust into my face, and I blinked as I read it. 46th Dallon Avenue, OpalMeadow, England. It was the address of the Potter House- or, should I say estate, considering the building that appeared in front of me was not just a simple house.  
A golden gate materialized, slightly constricting my view of the ever growing house.  
It expanded, white columns, two balconies jutting from the large French doors on the second floor, a wide two door entrance painted a brilliant red.  
The path leading to it was laid out in a brick pattern, yet was black and twinkling from the rain. Flowers lined the trail, reaching the front of the house where a series of bushes dotted with yellow- or were they golden?- roses framed the front.  
I didn't do anything, but neither did my escort- yet the gate began to open.  
The door of the house- mansion really- also opened, and a man rushed out of it.  
"Hello there!" He yelled, waving his arm, nearing us.  
My hair, sopping from the rain, clung to my face as I said back, "Hi!" I hurried a bit up the path, approaching him in the middle.  
The man was tall and lean, a trimmed greying beard framed his chin and his mouth. The hair on his head was surprisingly tidy.  
Gusts of humid air whipped the end of my coat around.  
I definitely was expecting his hair to be sticking up like his son's.  
"Lily!" He pulled me into a hug, "wonderful to meet you."

I returned the gesture, "you too ." and he pulled away.

He held my shoulders, but began to talk to my escort. I got a better look of his face. Laughter lines were around his mouth, there were crinkles by his eyes. His nose wasn't the same as James', a bit wider, but they had the same chin. He had a nice smile too, a big friendly one, and his eyes were hazel.  
"Yes, thank you." And as quickly as he appeared with me, my escort disaparated.  
He redirected his focus to me. "I'll properly introduce myself inside; I would be a dreadful host to keep you in this rain any longer!" He laughed.  
"Too late there! The damage has been done." I gestured to my clothing which was clinging to me.  
He raised his brows and dropped them with a sigh, "Forgive me," we began to hurry down the path, "which you must since I'll be providing for you for the next 2 months."  
We came up to the bushes- gold flowers- and I replied "Thank you for all of this by the way, and I can hold a grudge pretty well."  
Chuckling, he took off my coat as we entered the house.  
"That would not surprise me; my son has told us lots about how you're constantly annoyed with him."  
I barely registered the words, my eyes too busy roaming. A grand staircase, over to the left side, led up to the second floor. Made of simple yet shiny light wood, it managed a look of elegance but not flashiness. On the first floor in front of me there was a short hall that branched off on the right, and I could peek into the kitchen- wide and spacious. The countertops were smooth slabs of swirling gray and white marble. Not totally spotless; papers and a few ink bottles and quills laid around.  
Even though the house was huge, it didn't feel empty. A small navy blue rug was under my feet, pictures of the Potters lined the walls in this room, underneath them were shelves displaying books and candles and certificates, even an extremely miniaturized hovering broom.  
It felt lived in.  
"Your house is very nice."  
My fingers curled around the ends of my sweater-I hadn't realized he used a spell to dry me off.  
"Thank you, my wife and I were busting ourselves with tidying up, I'm glad it wasn't for nothing. Oh, and please call me Fleamont."  
What I thought was, _What a horrible first name._ What I said was,"I'd say you did a spiffing job; certainly does look very clean-"  
"Just don't go into James' room; it's horrendous in there." He warned with a sly smirk.  
"OI!" The devil in question appeared. The "oi" fumbled into more of an "oh" once he reached the staircase. Immediately his hand went to reach for his hair. "Evans..." Potter gulped, covering his motion up by tugging slightly on his collar. "Hullo."  
I refrained from showing any signs of discomfort, "Hello... James."  
He quirked his brows. "First name basis?" A slight smile played on his lips.  
"It seemed appropriate; I am living in your house now, yeah?" I lifted my suitcases a bit for emphasis.  
"Right."

He stepped down the stairs. Then said, obviously attempting to act casual, "Where's mum?"  
Fleamont frowned. "I don't suppose she's on any missions as of now...though she stayed at work so as to not rouse any suspicion. My wife's an auror." He told me.  
"Oh, yes, It explained in the letter. Do...other people know about the relocation? People that don't house anyone?" I asked.  
"Oh no, no of course not. There might be a few rumors, but it was all carried out secretly. If there's any suspicions the ministry will confund people. Euphemia just decided not to make it obvious."  
"You did though?"  
This time Potter answered. "Nah, dad's retired, from both his hair potion business and the department. Mum still has two years left as an auror."  
The weight of my luggage seemed to increase the longer I held it.  
"Is there a place I could put these?"  
Fleamont startled, " Oh! I forgot, your room is upstairs, James go show her around, will you? I should get breakfast started." With a flick of his wrist my trunks lifted to the air.  
"Thank you Fleamont." I smiled, although inside I was dreading his departure.  
With a nod, he turned and went to the kitchen, and Potter and I were left alone.  
"Er..." Potter raised his wand, my luggage following, "I'll show you to your room."  
We ascended the stairs and he led me into the hallway in silence. We passed many doors, pictures hanging on the walls, walking along with a thin gold rug under our feet, the shiny hardwood revealed on sides.  
"This," he tapped on a door, "is my room. That-" he pointed to one three or four identical white doors down, "is my parents room," he turned around, "and this..." He opened another door, "is your room."  
It was certainly bigger than my one back home. The room was colored a tame yellow, white moldings wrapping around. Covered in a light blue comforter the queensized bed rested in the middle of the room, the headboard against the east wall. A mirror hung opposite it, with a white dresser underneath. There was a wardrobe next to the wide window, the curtains airy and transparent, fluttering from a slight breeze.  
 _My room back home..._  
Isn't something I should be thinking about.  
"It's lovely." I commented. My luggage landed on the bed with a thud.  
"Glad you like it, since, you know, you'll be uh, living in it for a while."  
I walked over to the dresser and glided my finger along its edge. "I reckon this isn't such a bad place to be forced to hide in." I glanced at him, his expression cautious.  
"Listen- ev- Lily." He sighed and took a moment, shuffled his hands. "I don't want you to think you're held captive here or anything, really. We may be doing this for your safety, but that doesn't mean you'll have to stop talking to your family."  
I raised my brows.  
"...I mean not using owls, since they could be intercepted, and you'd have to be extremely discreet in them anyways- I uh mean the letters, not the owls- and i assumed that would be rather pointless wouldn't it? Since uh..." He gulped, "anyway we added a muggle phone line and everything, so you can still- er, ring them when you want to..."  
My heart leaped. "Seriously? You bought me a phone?"  
He smiled, his hand ran through his wild hair. "Yeah. We had some trouble with it, but it's right here-" Potter turned and pointed next to the door frame.  
"Well, now I know why I hadn't noticed it; it was behind me." I said, a bit in awe.  
"Sneaky muggle products." He chuckled.  
I picked up the phone. The weight heavy in my hand was oddly comforting

"Thank you." I meant it.  
He left out a breath, his shoulders relaxing. He shoved his hands into his pockets."No problem. I'm all about using my great intelligence for others."  
I played along. "Oh so modest."  
"Why thank you, I'll come up with anything to make the guests feel more comfortable."  
I snorted, "too bad you're here."  
"Harsh, Evans."  
"Really though... thanks."  
"Really though, you're welcome."  
Smiling, we lapsed into silence.  
Potter opened his mouth several times but always decided against words. So I started.  
"I...I suppose, since I'm living here now, that we shouldn't be down each others throats, yeah?"  
He sucked in a breath, hissing."Would I ruin that plan if I made a suggestive comment right now?"  
"Merlin, yes Pot-James. Don't take the Mickey, I'm just suggesting that maybe we should try not to fight."  
"I did ask first."  
I waited.  
"Okay. Not fighting would be nice. Though if I do recall we didn't fight all that much this term anyway.." He tweaked his glasses.  
"Compared to 5th year you mean, to which every time we saw each other you'd find an excuse to piss me off, so in comparison of course 6th year didn't seem like a lot."  
"I didn't mean to- I was a stupid git."  
I inclined my head and arched a brow, "was?" My lips quirked.  
"And here I thought we weren't going to fight," he scoffed.  
"Fighting? We're not fighting. I'm just pointing out the obvious."  
"Seemed a little rude to me." He looked determinedly away, yet I could tell, even with arms crossed, that he wasn't actually angry.  
My eyes roamed his figure. Dressed in black pants and a blue buttoned shirt, I could easily imagine his Hogwarts robes resting over his outfit- I don't know why I was even surprised to find that he didn't wear muggle clothing. No high waisted pants or light wash jeans, that's for sure. And why would he?  
"Alright," I hung up the phone. "Just don't fall back on your old..." Personality? "Immaturity... And I might be able to survive."  
He looked down at his shoes, "I hope you do more than just survive." His voice was low, almost a murmur.  
"That is what I'm doing now though, surviving against..." I hesitated "Voldemort."  
Potter chuckled, finally meeting my eyes. "We're allowed to say his name here." He confirmed, then he shrugged, "even if my mum and dad wouldn't permit it, I have a knack for rebelling against authority."  
Speaking of authority, Fleamont yelled that breakfast was served. We met eyes again, and I looked away.  
I slipped past him and stepped out into the hall. "Well, are you going to rebel and refuse to eat?"  
"Sirius always had more detentions than me!"  
And soon enough I was seated at a grand table, not as long as one in the great hall, but still longer than necessary for a family of three. Thus we sat around the top of it, with Fleamont seated at the head, and Potter and I facing one another.  
The rest of the table was layered with food. Mostly small snacks, pastries, while we ate the actual meals, omelets and home-fries.  
"You can come in here whenever you want and knick something," Fleamont told me, gesturing to the rest of the table with an air of mischief.  
"Agh dad." Potter groaned and lowered his fork, "you can't tell her she can knick something, where's the fun in that?"  
"Not everything has to be an adventure, James."  
"Thank you Fleamont." I replied politely.  
We continued to eat, the sounds of our cutlery moving through the silence until Fleamont spoke again.  
"So Lily, James has told me you're one of the best students in your year..." at this, Potter glared at his father, positively pink in the face, "do you think you're going to be awarded Head Girl?"  
It was my turn to blush, and I raised my eyebrows.  
"Head Girl? I... I hadn't really thought about it." Once upon a time, yes, but when tensions had been so high because of the threats and the pressure of O.W.L exams? No. And my only thoughts this summer were about enjoying the time off, despite my unease at the recent headlines.  
I looked to Potter, who was now staring determinedly at his lap.  
"I suppose I wouldn't be bad at it. I'm already a Prefect."  
"A prefect too, eh? You're practically a shoe-in for the job! It's extremely difficult. From what I've heard, that is! See, James' mum was the Head Girl." He sighed a bit dramatically, "I never did do as well as her at...well, anything really." Yet he didn't seem particularly bummed about that. Actually he seemed practically delighted to boast about Mrs. Potter, which he continued to for several minutes.  
How adorable.  
"That woman..."  
"Okay dad. I think we got it." Potter grumbled.  
The rest of the conversation was mostly between me and Fleamont. We talked about the recent killings, my possible aspirations after Hogwarts, and the classes I would be taking this year. When we moved to my life at home, Potter piped up.  
"Is Petunia still a bloody nightmare?"  
I whipped my head around, "what?"  
He paused. "Petunia." He said, "is she still a bloody nightmare?"  
"How do you know about my sister?"  
He shrugged. "I'm not a bad listener, you know. You've mentioned her at school before."  
"Never to you." I said, not realizing how coldly.  
A small blush rose to his face, "maybe not directly."  
There was a pause.  
"So, is she still-"  
"Yes, right up to this morning." I looked away.  
"I'm...sorry."  
James Potter, saying sorry?  
Fleamont looked at me with soft eyes. "That must be hard for you."  
I struggled with words, "yeah. It's... Aggravating."  
"Don't worry, with me around, you'll miss her in no time." Potter joked.  
Little did he know, I always did.

* * *

A/N- Aaaaand that was the first chapter. Thanks for reading! I'll probably update every week. Reviews and favorites are much appreciated bc I love hearing feedback on what you guys think. This fic is actually gonna be pretty fluffy at times, ngl. And it'll get darker. Wait for it.

(Also, I originally named his parents Edmund and Lucy, but I figured I'd change it to fit with canon. Too bad canon them have such ugly names.)

Thanks for reading!

\- Jackie


	2. Battles and balance

Summary:

Lily begins adjusting to her new situation, but not without a few obstacles- or should I say, the idiotic acts of a certain teenage boy.

Notes:

This chapter is short in comparison to the last one, so I'm sorry about that. I hope it's still entertaining though! If anyone can give me examples of British slang that would be really helpful bc I don't think I'm all that great at it. And a big thank you to that Guest reviewer! I wish you had an account so I could reply directly to you. Your praise means so much and thank you for the correction! I went back and fixed it. Although lol I doubt anyone would volunteer to be a Beta Reader for me. The thought is nice. Thanks, again!

* * *

 **Battles and balance**

For the given circumstances, I wasn't having a bad time at the Potter's residence.  
The place itself was very nice and inviting, the food was abundant and fresh, and the company...well...  
I was suspicious of the company. Particularly James potter, to no surprise.  
He was acting very...unusual. Unlike his annoying self. It seemed like my position as guest made him more sheepish than arrogant. Or maybe, it was me who didn't mind as much?  
Admitting either one to myself was unlikely to happen.  
 _One month and three weeks to go._

I was sitting in what I deemed "my reading room" when Potter came in.  
Given the distance of this room from the rest of the house, I usually left the door open. The walls were built-in bookshelves, made of dark hardwood. And the plush red arm chair with a matching futon made the perfect reading spot.  
"You have a blanket on? It's July."  
I nearly shrieked in surprise. "Christ! Potter- James! Don't just-"  
"Talk?"  
I rolled my eyes. "Yes. Don't talk. At all. Ever."  
"No can do, Evans." He leaned against the door frame,"So, what's with the blanket?"  
"What's with…" I looked down at my blanket, "ugh." I looked back up at him, "What, I can't be cozy when reading?"  
"Not when it's 32 degrees outside. How you're not boiling right now, I have no idea."  
"I'm usually cold. Don't judge me. Also..not to be rude but..what do you want?"  
His hand ran through his jet black hair. "I uh, was thinking, since the weather is so nice and all, if you'd join me for a match?"  
"A match? Of quidditch?" I raised my eyebrows.  
"Yeah."  
"Oh."  
Silence.  
"I've never really been too fond of flying, if you didn't know..."  
"I did..nt." He gave a startled hop, raising his index finger, "I did not! Okay, well... I'll see you for dinner then!"  
And he was gone.  
 _No persisting? No wagering? Not even a "if you play a match with me, I'll do your laundry for two weeks?"_  
 _Then again, does he even know how to do laundry?_  
 _Also, he called me Evans. I guess only some old habits die hard._

**  
Dinner was roasted turkey with green beans and sweet potatoes on the side.

"You're beautiful Lily," Mrs. Potter mused, "who'd you inherit your hair from?"  
I blushed, "thank you. Blonde hair runs in the family, but no one close has red hair. Since a lot of the old photos are black and white, it's hard to tell."  
"Maybe it came along with your magic gene," there was a twinkle in her eye when she said this: _that's where Potter gets it, then_.  
"I've thought of that too!"  
It was the first night Euphemia was home for dinner. We met at the odd hour of 11 PM on my second day here: she had just gotten home and was obviously worn down and tired. Her brown hair was tied up in a loose bun, her face absent of any makeup. Unfortunately, I had on my pajamas. Not to say my pajamas are embarrassing, because their not. The monkeys on them are very cute, thank you.  
I just wished my attire had been more appropriate.

"So, did they go _completely bonkers_ when they learnt you were a witch?"

I laughed, "They took it rather well actually! By the time I got my letter my sister was sick of hearing about Hogwarts and my parents no longer thought they were insane!"

Fleamont swallowed his food,"were there other wizarding families around to tell them?"

Shrugging I said,"There was just this one kid, Sev, who lived a town over, he explained everything." It was out of my mouth before I processed it.

Potter met my eye. Looked away.

Euphemia and Fleamont glanced at each other.

"He went to Hogwarts too?" An innocent question.

"Yeah."

Potter huffed."He's a self-righteous Slytherin git."

I glared.

" _James-_ " Fleamont started.

Euphemia extended her hand across the table," _Sweetheart-_ "

"What? It's the truth mum." He sat back with a lift to his chin that infuriated me instantly.

I felt my face heat up."Wow- Even _now_ you can't restrain yourself!"

"I just didn't want my parents getting the wrong idea." He said cooly.

My breath left me in an indignant huff. "I think your parents would be just fine without your input, seeing as you're _also_ a self-righteous git. Being in Gryffindor doesn't pardon someone from being an arse."

" _I_ can't restrain myself?" He raised his hands, "You're the one still defending him! And calling me an arse even after _he_ called you-"

I leaned in, "I wasn't defending him, Potter. If you listened better than a moldy sock-"

"I was listening! You keep saying I never do and yet-"

"-You would _realize_ I only said you were _also_ an arse-"

"I listen to you all the time!" He lifted his arms, "Even when you think I'm being an 'arse' I'm worrying about you meanwhile you continue defending him while-"

"-And that he isn't the _only_ self-righteous idiot at Hogwarts! Meaning he _is one!_ That, however, does not excuse _you_!"

James stood up quickly, nearly knocking his glasses eskew. "HE CALLED YOU THE M WORD!"

No one spoke.

I stepped away from my chair, my face aflame. "I can recall that incident perfectly for myself, thanks." Then I remembered his parents were feet away. Through gritted teeth I said,"Thank you for the meal, Mr and Mrs Potter. If you'll excuse me I'll be up in my room."

I almost called mum after dinner. I decided against it: She would hear the tremble in my voice immediately. Why worry her?

Two hours passed by the time there was a knock on my door.

"It's Euphemia."

I sat up. "Come in."

Euphemia peeked her head in. "How are you doing, Lily?" And proceeded to walk into the room, closing the door behind her.

Before she did, however, I held my hand up, "I appreciate you letting me stay here, and I'm sorry for any stress i've put on your family, but if you're coming in here to apologize on your son's behalf, I would really you rather not, Mrs. Potter."

She slightly raised her brows.

"I get that you'd want to ensure me he 'means well' and all that, and I appreciate you checking in, but if Potter- ugh, James- is going to make me see him differently, I want it to be from him."

My words hung in the air, for a fragile, scary, moment.

 _I am so fucked._

Then, she made an amused face. "I actually think you're right with that, Lily."

I audibly sighed. "Oh thank Merlin. For a second there I thought I was about to be thrown out."

"Now," she laughed, "If we threw you out, who would be here to call my son an arse?"

"Er...Sorry about that."

Euphemia shrugged, "While It's not the best reaction from a guest, it wasn't right for my son to bring up what he did. Although in the future It would be great if you could refrain from certain...language."

I nodded. "Yes, of course."

"I'll let James apologize on his own time. It wouldn't be genuine if I made him come up here."

"Thank you."

"In the meantime…" she smiled brightly, "I thought you'd need some dessert." From behind her back she revealed two bowls of ice-cream with mounds of whipped cream.

"Oh gosh, sure, thank you."

As she handed me my bowl she sighed and sat on the edge of my bed, "I know it must be hard adjusting, and worrying about your family. I'm sorry for that. I figured the incident tonight made you feel even lonelier."

I couldn't deny this. "It's hard. Especially tonight. But I can't complain," I gestured to the room, "this is definitely better than any relocation I could have hoped for. It's just...James and I have...a troubled past… It's great to know my family is safer though."

"How is your family, by the way? I haven't heard much about them."

From there, I basically explained everything. From how my sister and I were the best of friends, to now. I even mentioned Severus. I didn't bring up James though, and Euphemia didn't push. She inquired about my parent's professions and my muggle upbringing.

We spoke long after we finished our desserts.

Only when Fleamont knocked on my door did we stop our conversation.

He stuck his head in."I'm sorry for stealing my wife from you, Lily, but I'm afraid I must."

I found myself laughing, "Totally understandable sir."

Euphemia and I hugged. I promised to make breakfast.

Sleep came quickly.

Potter and I didn't acknowledge each other in the morning. I decided to call off addressing him as James. The habit was hard to change anyway.

Fleamont practically shoveled the food into his mouth."This french toast is very good, Lily!"

"Thanks! It's a muggle recipe."

The rest of us chatted about mundane things. His parents revealed they were going out to run errands and get food from the grocer later. They said Potter and I would have to fix lunch for ourselves.

"There's sandwich meats in the fridge, and bread on the counter. If you need anything from the market write it down on this pad." Fleamont said.

"It's linked to our pad, so whatever you write shows up on ours in real time."

Fleamont grinned, "comes in handy when you forget to tell us something and we're not home."

I scribbled " _Buy Lily dark chocolate_ " on one pad and watched as the words appeared on the other one, in my exact handwriting.

"Huh," I mused, "us muggles use telephones." It got a laugh from them.

Potter was silent. _Silent as stone, like a very pompous sulking statue_.

As soon as Euphemia and Fleamont left, Potter and I went into our separate corners of the house. Me to my reading room, him to...wherever he goes.

In three hours I finished one of my books from home. It revolved around some bloke from the States named Benedict Arnold who betrayed, like, everyone he knew. _What a pillock._

I closed it and went to make some lunch.

Turns out, Potter had a similar idea.

His back faced me when I walked in. I didn't say hi, only grabbed what I needed. He wore a black button up, with the sleeves rolled. The professional attire still seemed weird in a casual setting.

He turned, and we sidestepped each other.

"Where's the mustard?" I asked.

No reply.

"Potter, where's the mustard?" I glared at his shoulder blades.

"Fridge. Third shelf on the door."

I didn't bother saying thank you.

I swung open the fridge and shifted through some cold drawers."Eugh," I mumbled, "out of ham." I settled for roast beef.

Rather uncomfortably we assembled our sandwiches side by side.

He had whole wheat, lettuce, tomato, swiss (ew), turkey, hummus. Not that I cared.

Without a goodbye, I took my sandwich with me into the reading room.

I realized I forgot my drink halfway through my meal. Potter wasn't in the room when I returned; his plate in the sink.

When my glass of water filled I remembered to write down I wanted ham from the store. However, when I located a pen and reached for the pad, ham was already listed. In James' handwriting. It said _"For Lily_ ".

Thirty minutes into a new book, Potter appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, Evans…"

I looked up and raised my eyebrows.

 _Do not mention the ham. The ham does not make up for his behavior._

"I wanted to… Uh, say I'm sorry… If I offended you or hurt your feelings at dinner last night."

 _Who cares about the ham?_

I put my book down,"That's not a proper apology."

"You know me," he smiled, "I've never had a good track record of doing things properly."

I wasn't letting him get away with a smile and a joke: "Yeah, and how's that working out for you?"

He sighed. "If you don't want to hear my apology-"

"Your _shit_ apology-"

"Then I'll just leave!"

"Good!" I yelled. "Bye!"

He left...and a few minutes later, stormed back in.

"What do you want me to say?"

I made a face, "I'm not going to script your apology for you!"

He brought his hand to his hair, made a pained expression. "I'm sorry, okay! He… Sniv- Severus, gets under my skin."

"Which isn't an excuse-"

"I got that! Just let me finish, jeeze."

I leaned back, my arms crossed.

"He pisses me off. And I shouldn't have called him what I did because it wasn't my parents business and it really had nothing to do with the conversation. I just… He was a part of your childhood, and I don't know, I didn't want my parents- or you- thinking he was some great guy." He looked up. "And yeah, okay, I was also a complete arse… Still am, arguably. I didn't want you to defend him. He's not worth defending when he did that to you! And, and, he sided with...well, you know. I get you guys were best friends, but that doesn't make what he did okay."

"You think I'm incapable of knowing that? I ended things with him for a reason."

He nodded, "I know that. And you're right, I shouldn't think that of you." He froze, "And I don't!"

"Obviously you do."

"Alright." He winced and tweaked his glasses."I'll stop doing that then. And about the arse thing, It's true that you weren't defending him, and only calling me a hypocrite." The words wrestled out from his teeth, "I'm just… biased… I guess I really only heard what I wanted to."

"So…."

"So," his voice softened, "I'm sorry for being a wanker, regardless of it hurting you or not, since it was wrong either way."

I waited, and then I nodded, "better."

He let himself grin, albeit a queasy one. "Not 'good'? Just 'better'?"

"Yep."

"Harsh critic, Evans."

"Well it's easy to be harsh when I'm critiquing you."

He sounded out a low whistle, "Merlin, I rather go back to not talking."

Yes, I did have a smug smile on.

After I didn't reply he asked,"Are we 'better', then?"

"We're...good."

Dinner was pleasant. A bit quiet, but calm. I still called Potter 'Potter', and he still called me Evans. _Rushing things wasn't the way to go, I suppose._

Still, it seemed as if after that conversation Potter and I didn't know what to say to each other.

His parents pretended not to notice, but Euphemia snuck a look at me.

 _I have to admit, I'd take quiet over raging argument any day._

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Let me know if you liked it if you did.**


	3. Music and Mayhem

A/N- sorry for being so late! I had midterms and finals to study for! I hope you enjoy this chapter, lots of stuff goes down. Also sorry for the odd spacing, the format doesn't translate well. And sorry there aren't any indicators for time passing in the story, like little asterisks. I tried that and this stupid site wont allow them to show up? Also I tried line breaks and that doesn't work either? I'm so angry about it this is my like 5th time editing this chapter to have SOMETHING showing a time jump and IT DOESNT WORK! UGH! WHATEVER ill figure it out. ugh. Hopefully you can tell when it's a new scene without them.

sorry, lol. enjoy

 **Music and Mayhem**

My record player did not work. At least, it didn't work in the presence of excessive amounts of magic. I didn't realize how often wizards used spells for every day life. Even leisurely tasks like dusting or flipping pages of a cookbook were simplified with a charm.

Usually I'd find the strength for restraint, but my package from Alice arrived just a few hours ago, at 9 AM on the dot. It contained a new Abba record which I _needed_ to hear.

The record mocked me in its smooth cardboard sleeve, decorated with colorful versions of the band members floating faces. I tried putting it across the room where my eyes wouldn't wonder. The tactic wasn't very successful.

What else could I do? Stand at the edge of their backyard and hope the magic wouldn't reach?

In the meantime, I wrote back to Alice.

Now, I knew letters to my parent's weren't in my best interest considering possible interceptions, but Euphemia and Fleamont said keeping up appearances with friends was different. Of course only if my location and the participants aren't revealed. They said It would look more suspicious if I _didn't_ contact my friends for two months. I knew even these three weeks without a letter would raise some eyebrows. While I felt bad about lying, my friends would understand.

 _Dear Alice,_

 _OH MY GOD! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I've listened to the entire record twice already, and Petunia is threatening to trash my player if I continue. Of course I'm going to._

 _What's your favorite song? I'm in love with tracks #3, 4, 7 and 9, but the others are great too._

 _Remind me to pay you back with my soul._

 _In other news, my mom got spring cleaning fever three months late. If only I could use those household spells you taught me, but sadly I already got a letter home because I turned something of Petunia's into a rat. Still, it was worth it._

 _Nothing else is really going on here. Which is nice for a change, but I miss you and Marlene and Hogwarts food._

 _Wishing you were here,_

Lily

That sounded believable, I just hoped tracks 3, 4, 7, and 9 were good songs. If anything, Alice Longbottom knew my music taste.

Someone knocked on my door.

"Come in."

Potter appeared. "Just letting you know my parents are leaving for a few hours. If you need to tell them anything, now is the time."

I thought for a second, "No, I'm good. I can always write it down on the pad."

And then, before he opened his mouth again, I shot up, realizing something, "They won't be home!"

"Yeah...I just said that."

"No, no, no, I meant it's good that they won't be home because that means less magic."

As I got up and grabbed the record James asked "...Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes, and can you not do any magic for like 54 minutes?"  
"For as eloquent as you usually are, right now you're not making any sense." He stood in the doorway, a quizzical look on his face.  
I peeled off the plastic wrap, "I must listen to this record and _you_ must not use magic or else the technology won't work."  
"What's a record?"  
I ignored him. Instead I opened the case and pulled the record player out. Flicking my hair out of my face, I placed the disc onto the platform.  
"Whoa, what is all this?"  
"A record player."  
"It plays records?"

"You catch on quick."  
He chuckled, "If only that wasn't sarcasm."  
Finally I bent over and put the needle down. After a bit of static, music sounded out.  
My shoulders dropped with a satisfied sigh. Then I froze. I looked at Potter. "Do you mind?"  
He grinned and raised his brows, "I do not mind at all, Evans, thank you for asking."  
I had the urge to shove him. And laugh.  
Confused by these thoughts (more so the last one) I settled for a glare. Glares are safe.  
"So how does this muggle contraption work and what are we listening to?"  
"Are you seriously going to stay here?"  
"Or what? Stay away and _accidentally_ use magic?"  
What nerve. He had that stupid, infuriating grin on his face too. The smug bastard. He ran a hand through his black hair, like he knew he just won.  
"Fine. Sit."  
We sat on the floor, cross legged.  
"I'm listening to Abba. It's a band."  
" _We're_ listening to Abba."  
"Shut up. The record player works by the needle running over the grooves in the disc which in turn produces the sound."  
Potter tilted his head to the side, "So if I were to…-"

"Whatever you're thinking, don't do it because yes, it will mess the music up."

He smirked.

"I actually don't think this is half bad, Evans."

"Half bad? What do _you_ listen to, Potter?" The question was more rhetorical but of course he answered anyway.

"Hmm...lately The Split Cauldrons, Poisoned Hearts, and a bit of everything else, but I've never heard this before. It's like, beat focused? That in the backgrou-"

I almost put my hand on his mouth, realizing the second track started. "Talking time is over. I need to listen and enjoy this."

With a flourish of his hand he said,"Your wish is my command."

I shot him a sideways glance.

He smiled dazzlingly in return.

To think that Potter and I would sit on the floor listening to _The Album_ for two consecutive hours is a ridiculous idea. A should-be-impossible idea, and yet...

The second time around he was murmuring the lyrics under his breath, tapping the wood with his knuckles.I was hunched over writing a new, more detailed letter to Alice. We agreed our favorite song was 'Take a Chance on Me".

When the music stopped we both looked to the doorway, then each other.

We were both thinking, _someone must have used magic_.

"Guys?" Fleamont called out from far below, "James? Lily?"  
We jumped up and James strode into the hall.  
"Yeah?" He disappeared. his footsteps sounded down the stairs.  
They didn't call me down, so I resumed my listening on the bed.  
The third time through I liked the album less.

* * *

Despite Fleamont and Euphemia's persistent reassurances last week that there really was no need, I did some laundry. In between loads I wrote letters. Marlene, Sheila, and Remus were updated with, well...lies.

It was strange how believable the letters sounded, even to me. I mentioned Petunia's antics, getting a new car (which actually happened three weeks ago, before I got here), and my summer job at Ralphs Ice cream. Part of me wanted to explain everything going on, but I knew the danger of the idea.

Yet it tempted me. The killings had momentarily calmed, which was good. Potter and I made up after our blow out, which was...good? Was that good? I wasn't sure. Friendship- if this really was that- was untraveled territory for us.

For a second I thought of calling Petunia. The idea was laughable: we hadn't had a decent conversation in years, let alone one about boys.

* * *

When I sat down for food, no one was very talkative.

"Is everything alright?" I asked.

The moon was rising in the sky, the darkness growing.

Fleamont put his head in his hands, and Euphemia looked up, "There was another attack."

"Oh." I put down my water. "I thought they were becoming less frequent…"

Fleamont leaned on his palm, "Yes, they were. The ambushes were quieting down, there were less signs of hostility. The relocation program really seemed to make a dent in their plans."

"But…?"

"This morning there was an attack on 92 Muggles and MuggleBorns."

My stomach dipped sharply.

"Ninety-two? How? Are they rounding them up for one big execution?"

"Only forty-five of them died, thirteen were injured, two in critical condition. There was a program, at a public library, an initiation-of-sorts for new students going to Hogwarts."

"They were _eleven years old?"_

"Some of them, yes."

I sat there, dumbfounded. Dumbfounded and furious. My anger growled out of me, "how did that happen? How could someone _let that happen?_ "

Euphemia shut her eyes. "It was a casual event. In a tiny village out by Nottingham." She sounded tired.

"Out where Aunt Aurelia lives?" James inquired.

She only nodded, her eyes watery. "Apparently word had gotten around from a few towns. Excited parents wanted information. A small library hosted the event with only two people running it. They thought only a couple of people would show…"

Fleamont said,"That wasn't the case."

"As it was ending, Death Eaters showed...I got the call too late. The place was already in flames. I'm too old for it -the field work- but they needed the people." She shrugged her shoulders. Fleamont moved in closer and put an arm around her. "I saved- I saved- three kids, only two parents, and I fought back a few Death Eaters. My god," Euphemia took a shuddering breath, "they- the Death Eaters, they were _laughing_."

James wouldn't look my way.

I leaned forward, "you did all you could, Euphemia. No one could have predicted that."

She nodded, albeit numbly.

"I'm just glad you're safe here, Lily." She looked around at each of our faces. "I'm glad all of you are safe."

* * *

The next few days passed. Euphemia would come and go. Immediately after the event Fleamont left the house to check on Potter's Aunt. He came back often, but didn't stay for long, going from the ministry back to the Aunt's house. When home Fleamont sat in his office and furiously wrote letters. All the while James and I listened to the radio for updates.

Three weeks without tension and then _this_.

" _Seems like today there's another murder in Essex, folks. Stay inside, follow the procedure the Ministry has owled out, and keep your wands on you at all times…"_

" _Tell me, Mr. Prime Minister, how do you react when certain reporters doubt your capabilities during these trying situations?"_

" _The townspeople of Nottingham now have a curfew starting at 8 PM."_

" _The Daily Prophet refuses to provide information about the recent massacre in Nottingham…"_

He tweaked the dial again. Only static rose. "Damn Grodric."

In the sunlit kitchen, everything looked fine. Copious amount of fruit and bread sat on the counter, birds fluttered in the warm air outside. Yet we all felt a lag. Like we were constantly waiting. Waiting for more terrible news. News that Voldemort had found out about a certain muggleborn protection program.

I looked over at James who fiddled mercilessly with the knob. "Is your Aunt alright?"

"Yeah," He shrugged, "She's fine. The killing near her town just made my dad extra nervous 'cause she's always been big on muggle-born rights. Her and my late grandpa." His eyes widened, "Of course, so is my dad and my mum! They were never into that pureblood stuff!"

I waved him off. "It's fine, really." Secretly, though, my heart raised a bit with that new knowledge.

"But yeah," James deflated, "Aunt Aurelia lives with her new husband, throws dinner parties and the like. She probably knows more details about the killing, that's all."

Another station came in clear.

" _Some reports say more than thirty eleven-year-olds were dead at the scene…"_

James and I didn't talk.

" _The Dark Mark was witnessed hanging over the public library as flames devoured the building, late on Sunday afternoon…"_

Two minutes of silence later and James whipped around, eyes wide and a smile on his face.

I raised a brow."What are you so cheery about?"

"Let's get out of this slump, Evans!"

* * *

And so, there I was, a broomstick in my hand while standing in James Potter's green backyard.

 _So this is your idea of getting out of a slump?_

"The last time I flew was in First Year, Potter."

"Good day to change that!"

I rolled my eyes, "I really don't enjoy flying."

The sun blazed, alone in the calm blue sky, no clouds around to shield it. I wished that wasn't the case because even without the exercise my hairline grew sweaty.

"Why? Afraid of heights?"

"No. It's just...not my _thing."_ I dropped my arms childishly, still holding the broom.

"It can't not be your thing. You tried it once seven years ago. How can you expect a thing to be your thing when you've only done the thing once?"

"Twice."

"And now three times. Get on the broom."

I balked at him, yet part of me tried not to smile, "Aren't I supposed to command it first? And like, stand a certain way and hold it with my-"

"For someone who claims Quidditch isn't 'their thing', you sure have a lot of criticisms."

 _Hm. That was a good one._ "I want to do this the right way."

His smirk appeared again, "If that didn't work for you before, why go through it again? Try it my way."

His messy hair whipped in the slight breeze. I savoured the feeling of the wind on my damp skin. James lifted a hand and repositioned his glasses.

"I swear, if you end up getting me killed…"

"Then you won't be around to complain about me anyway!"

I nearly snorted.

"Now," he clapped, "up."

I huffed, not really all that annoyed, and straddled the broom.

"Lift off, but just so you hover, I need to see your posture."

He stood back, watching critically, one eyebrow poised when they weren't both furred together.

Hesitantly, I teetered on my tiptoes and then tapped the ground.

"Harder than _that_."

I glared and pushed off, ...and accidentally shot up several feet into the thick air. "Agh!" My feet dangled. I jolted. I gripped the wood frantically, leaning back too much.

"Oh okay wait, calm down, you're just too high, too fast-" James laughed a bit as he came closer. He put a hand on my waist. After he repositioned me he brought me down.

For the short moment his hand rested on me, I stared at it. I wondered since when did he have such big hands? Or ...such long fingers?

 _Wait. Since when did I care?_

"Better. Stay at this level for now."

"Fine." I shook off my thoughts, "What next?"

I saw the small beginnings of a smug smile. And some perspiration on his forehead as well.

"Tilt to the right."

" _Tilt_? To fall off?"

"No don't fall off." He chuckled, "Besides, you're like, four feet off the ground, Evans. I'll catch you if you fall either way. (A/N: Foreshadowing?) It's so

you get used to changing directions while balancing."

After I flipped my hair from my sticky face, I leaned to the right.

"Good, good, and relax your legs, you're gripping _way_ too hard."

I laughed."How _else_ am I supposed to stay on this?"

"You can't be super rigid. It takes too much strength and concentration... and honestly, it hurts after a while." He swiped his forehead with his arm.

"Well, since we're doing this _your_ way..."

After following a few more of his instructions, he let me into the air.

"Now wait, wait! I'm getting my broom!"

Moving a few inches here and there, I could do. But zooming around faster than 5 MPH? No thanks. The air seemed hotter off the ground. I pulled my shirt away from my chest and blew some air down it.

"I didn't think you were a quitter Evans! What's with the slow pace?" He bellowed, clearly enjoying himself.

"Because it is as hot as Merlin's soggy left ball out here and this isn't my thing! I enjoy _watching_ Quidditch, not _playing!_ Do _not_ throw that quaffle at me!"

"You've only been flying for, like, 20 minutes!"

"That's long enough for-" I jumped and shrieked with laughter as he pretended to hurl the red quaffle in my direction.

The glass door of the house slid open, "Oh thank Merlin, Euphemia they're over here!" I peeked over my shoulder to see Fleamont burst outside in his light cloak and tan slacks. He looked relieved.

"There you guys are!" The panic in Euphemia's voice declined as she approached.

Immediately James lowered himself to the ground. He landed and kept the broom in his hand.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," Euphemia shook her head while panting. She pressed her hand on her heaving chest, "You worried us, that's all."

Fleamont frowned, "James, next time leave a note will you?"

From above I noticed James tense up. A sweat stain lined the back of his shirt. "What? Why? Why are you acting like I did something wrong?"

"Given the circumstances, it would be nice to have a heads up before you go to the yard."

"A heads up?" James scoffed, "Why do I need to tell you we're going outside to have a game of quidditch?"

Fleamont squeezed his eyes shut and released a breath. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "In this time, when I walk into my house and it's completely empty and no one answers when I call, your mother and I get _scared_ , James. Especially now that Lily is under our care. Entering an empty house is a red flag now." He gave a pointed look.

"Oh."

"Think a little more next time."

James only nodded, swallowing.

Euphemia said,"There's been another killing."

For a moment no one cold feeling returned, despite the heat of the sun. Then I let out a squeak.

"...Can someone help get me down?"

* * *

The next morning I fumbled out of bed, my hamstrings and quads and stomach sore. Damn quidditch. The soreness wouldn't stop me though, because at the unruly hour of six AM I really needed to pee. Like, I _really_ needed to pee. Even with the flying practice, the somber mood of yesterday evening muddled my sleepy mind. We heard of another killing, another twelve dead, another reminder that we must let Mr and Mrs Potter know when we weren't in the house, as to minimize their worrying.

I bumped into walls in the dark hallway, impaired by the lack of light and my lack of alertness-

 _Another twelve dead…two of them tiny children. Twelve dead and the Prophet says they're fine...two more houses set aflame...two more Dark Marks..._

Which is exactly why I barged right into the bathroom while someone else occupied it.

Guess who the someone else was.

Yeah…..

"AH-"

James potter, hair wet and half of his chin covered in shaving cream, stood in the bathroom just after a shower.

And no he didn't have _just a towel_ on. He actually had a robe on. A blue robe. A blue robe that provided an _arguably_ nice view of his chest. Just a thin sliver of it, but a thin sliver that journeyed down to the robe's belt around his waist, nonetheless. That thin sliver of his chest revealed some light chest hair. Plus, past his navel ( _an innie_ ) there was a faint trail that lead somewhere I couldn't see...

 _Not that I'd want to. Ever. At all. I mean I wouldn't want to see that, to clarify, of course, yeah…._ oh bollocks.

"Hi?" He quirked his thick eyebrows.

I noticed his hair stood up even when wet. In a tousled way, not a stringy way. I'd never seen him with stubble before so it surprised me that he shaved. He wasn't wearing his glasses either.

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk, "You're a lot more flustered than I thought you'd be at the sight of me in a bathrobe."

I raised my brows. "It's- It's because I'm embarrassed, your prick. If you were _normal_ you'd _also_ be embarrassed."

There was a moment of confusion, and then he grinned.

"Would you be even more embarrassed if I told you that I'm naked under this?"

My eyes widened, and then I clamped them shut, angrily sucking in breath. "Why, suddenly, are you back to being an idiotic pervert?"

"An idiotic pervert? Hey, you're the one who barged in on _me_."

"Yeah and I'm the one to slam the door too, this time not by accident!"

I did just that. I slammed the door in his confused, dripping wet face.

What the bloody _hell?_

On the way back I fumed out angry thoughts: _like, why? Yesterday he seemed...nicer! Caring, even! Less of a..a stupid smartass! Now he reverts back to his immature self?_

 _Ugh!_

Damn, how I wished I could talk to someone about this. Except that was impossible. Owling my friends about walking into James Potter in a bathroom would be blaringly obvious to interceptors.

I flopped down onto my bed. For a few seconds I didn't remember my bladder. A few seconds, mind you.

 _Ugh!_

I stomped downstairs, to one of the (yes, there's multiple) bathrooms on the first floor, since, you know, the one near my room was occupied.

Even in the bathroom I mumbled complaints to myself.

When I reentered the kitchen Potter was standing there waiting for me.

"Hey," he greeted softly. "You...alright?"

Yes, he still wore the bathrobe, yet displayed significantly less chest. No shaving cream.

I huffed, "Why do you care?"

His eyebrows scrunched, "I was joking around in there, Evans. You seemed a bit...on edge. We were fine yesterday."

"Yeah well, that's because you weren't acting like a fool yesterday."

He nodded slowly, "Or maybe," he grinned, "not to say I'm not the court jester of fools…"

I glared.

He dropped his grin and continued, "Maybe it's because of the killing last night? You probably have a lot going on in your mind."

"Yeah," I spat, "Maybe it's because twelve muggleborns were killed last night and I'm not in the mood for your 'jokes'."

I stared him down and he stared right back. His hazel eyes were intense even behind his glasses. He squared his shoulders.

"I figured that's why it would be the best time for jokes."

"Why, because I _need_ them?"

"Because how can someone survive during a war without some laughter?"

I fumbled on the edge of words, a retort, a comeback, _anything_. Yet nothing came out.

"You can't." He answered for me. He still held my stare.

 _That's... true._

"My joke might have been a bit inappropriate," _also true_ , "but I was just trying to make an uncomfortable situation into a funny one."

I looked away. The gray tiles of his kitchen gleamed back at me. I sighed, "I suppose I should apologize then...for snapping at you…"

"I never said I required an apology, but," His face lit up, "If you are _oh so_ insistent about it-"

"Nope, I am not." I tried keeping a straight face.

"I am _all_ ears Lily Evans." He leaned closer, his hand cupped against his ear. He smelled good, like clean soap.

"You are all ears and also the court jester of fools, James Potter." I crossed my arms and smirked.

"A court jester of fools that is wearing his boxers," He lifted up a side of his robe. Yep, those were some boxers alright. Snitch covered ones.

I let out a laugh, "Snitches? Really?"

"Anything to succeed at my job." He winked.

 _Which one?_ I wanted to ask, but instead I bit my lip and said,"Thanks."

"Oh don't thank me just yet, next time I _really_ won't wear anything under this."

I shooked my head rapidly, swatting him away with a snort, "Nope, nope, it's too early for this-"

"Did you just _snort_? Was that noise coming from _you_?"

"Don't! Don't make fun of it!"

"Make fun of it? Have you _seen_ my boxers?"

"Sadly, yes," I yelled, smiling, "Yes I have!"

By the time Fleamont came downstairs the conversation had unraveled to the point that James and I were in uncontrollable fits of laughter. James lay shaking on the floor and I was heaving from the stool by the counter. Fleamont looked from me to James, and then back again.

"Are you guys okay?"

"We're- we're-" James couldn't get the rest out.

"We're good," I managed between giggles.

Fleamont raised an eyebrow. "Okay then….."

* * *

Rays of brilliant light shone through my windows, the airy curtains pulled back for the view. It's not like James had mountains or incredible scenery behind his house or anything, but there were nice lines of dark evergreens extending high and wide. Opening the windows made the room feel less stuffy. A light breeze drifted in every now and again.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," I mumbled, the heavy phone pressed to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Mum!" I jumped up, "Hi!"

"Oh Lily! I was wondering when you'd call again. For whatever dang reason I can't seem to get a number from this phone to call back."

I laughed, "Yeah, that's part of the magic protection, actually complication, we can't seem to fix it, sorry about that. And sorry it took so long, there's been a lot going on." I twisted the telephone cord around my finger.

"I can imagine...actually, I can't. What are things like over there? Last time you didn't say much."

"It's good" I said. "The company is very accommodating," I leaned my shoulder against the wall and whispered, "they're _loaded_ mum."

My mum chuckled, "without you here, Petunia and _I_ are loaded!"

She couldn't see me scowl, but somehow she knew.

"Oh hush you know I'm just taking the mickey."

"Yeah, yeah. Anyhow, the parents are really nice, and the guy in my year is...getting better."

"I'll want to meet them at some point, to thank them for all this. Can you tell them that?"

"Sure I'll tell'em."

"What'd you say about the kid?"

"He's not a kid, mum. He's in my year."

"Yeah, yeah, anyhow…"

I laughed, " _Anyhow_ , he's getting better. Becoming less of a prick."

"It must be fun living with a guy considered 'less of a prick'. Either you're a harsh critic Lil's or this boy is trouble."

"Trouble." I said confidently. "Wait. Maybe a bit of both."

"Both? Oh _really_?"

"He means well. Sometimes he expresses that well meaning in…. unconventional ways."

"You're worrying me." I could hear her smile, "What 'unconventional' ways are we speaking of?"

"Merlin, Mum!" Even though she couldn't see, I rolled my eyes. "He's a bit arrogant is all, and makes jokes all the time, and in school he pulls some elaborate pranks on people."

"Must be interesting... living with a boy for once, especially that one." Mum mused, "How does it feel? Like having a brother?"

For some reason the word 'brother' seemed off. I didn't want to ask myself why.

I absentmindedly uncoiled the cord.

"Not like having a brother. And I've sort of lived with boys for the past six years, considering school."

"Hm, right. Good thing you're used to it, then. I would hate it if you were unhappy over there."

"What happened to my happiness coming after my safety?" I asked curiously.

"Well of course, but I'm glad you're not miserable." She paused, and then, "I heard about a few 'freak accidents' and missing people this week."

"Yeah." I sighed. "It's the Death Eaters."

"Thought it would be. You're safe there though? Be honest with me sweetheart."

"Yeah Mum," I looked at the open window, suddenly nervous. "We have magic enchantments on the entire house, the trace is gone, his parent's are trained Aurors-"

"High-esteemed Magic Police."

"Yep! Nice one." I smiled, "So I'm good."

"That's really comforting to hear, Lily. What'd you say that boys name was again?"

"James." I responded. I pulled the cord back and let it slap the wall lightly.

"Oh okay so he isn't the same one you complain about at home sometimes…"

"No, yeah," my confusion came out in my voice, "yeah he is."

"Really? I'm pretty sure that one had a different name. Something like Peter?"

My stomach dipped, "His last name. It's Potter."

"Ha! I thought that was his _first_ name! Since when is he James?"

I gulped, but I knew my mum wouldn't hear my heartbeat through the phone, "Since he was born, Mum."

"Yes dear, I know that." She laughed, "I meant to you. Since when is he James to you?" Her question lacked any smugness, I knew she only asked innocently. And yet my palms grew sweaty.

"I….I don't know.."

"God he used to piss you off so much! From what I heard that is…-"

"He...still does…" I mumbled.

"My god I can't believe this is the same boy you would complain about! I always thought his name was Potter! I thought it was odd, of course, but if other kids in the Wizarding World are named things like Neville and, and, Helga or Grodric or whatever," she continued talking but the rest of her ramble didn't compute in my brain, because my thoughts focused on James.

The first name. Not the person.

Okay, the person.

But mostly the first name, and the fact that I said his name, thought his name, have casually _said_ his name and hadn't even noticed it. When did it start? Why?

 _Nope. Not going to the 'why'. Who cares about the why?_

 _I mean, he's less of an asshole. That might be why. His arms_ have _gotten bigger- wait, that has nothing to do with it._

"Lily? Did you hear that? I know you'd rather hear it from her, but she's being a bit of a prat about you lately. I hate it but she won't give. Still, isn't it good news-?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"-I know he isn't the most gentlemanly man of them all, but I think he'll be good for her."

"What are you talking about?" I hugged the phone tighter to my ear.

"About Petunia."

"What about Petunia?" I put my free hand on my forehead, "Sorry, I must have spaced out."

"That Petunia's getting married! To Vernon!"

The phone slipped from my limp hand.

* * *

 **A/N** \- I hope this chapter was okay. I wanted some more tension between Lily and James, because I don't think one fight is realistic given their history and given the stressful circumstances. Obviously Lily does appreciate his sense of humor. Also I found the Aunts name on some 'odd baby names' list, bc JK Rowling always gives such strange names.

Again, sorry for the wait! I hope I'm more punctual next time with the weekly update!

Thanks for following and reviewing too! I really appreciate all of the favorites and reviews I get!

-Jackie


	4. Conversations and Comforts

**A/N- Hey! I'm going to start using "~~~~J/L~~~" as a way to show time progression, bc asterisk and underscore lines don't show up.**

* * *

 **Conversations and Comforts**

I didn't tell anyone about my sister's engagement, even after a few days. The conversation seemed unnecessary to me: Euphemia hurried from work to home and back to work again, and Fleamont seemed just as busy. James- ugh! Potter!- probably didn't need to hear about it either.

Every few hours I'd consider visiting my home to congratulate Tuney. Knowing it wouldn't be a wonderful teary reunion didn't stop the urge to go. If anything, Tuney resented me the longer I went without saying anything about it.

I tried calling home several times in hopes she'd pick up, to no avail. She always refused to come to the phone.

To make matters worse, I just got my period.

"Shit shit shit." I said whilst searching for some tampons. I was crouched down, looking through the cupboard under the lavatory sink. Suddenly I wanted to be back home for a completely different reason. I never appreciated living with only women until that moment.

"Of all things to forget when packing. Of course I forget tampons. Of _course_!" After a few more minutes I slumped back down on the bathroom rug. "Fine. No tampons there." I stuffed my underwear with tissues instead. Not my finest moment.

"It's just temporary," I told myself, "I am _going_ to find a tampon."

First I looked for the Two-Way writing pad. That didn't show up either. Next, I checked the other bathrooms. Still, empty handed.

Euphemia and Fleamont weren't home. While I'd rather ask Euphemia, I'd ask Fleamont too. Both options were out.

I _wasn't_ about to ask James.

Potter, I meant Potter.

Not like I could find him if I wanted to; he wasn't around. He went over to Remus'.

I climbed the stairs and double checked my suitcase. I was correct the first time.

"Bloody Baron!" I yelled in frustration, flinging the socks to the floor.

I tried a summoning charm, and then one for a pad, too. Neither produced an object. If witches had different sanitary items, they must go by names I didn't know of.

The last place I thought of was Fleamont and Euphemia's room. She might house some in a drawer somewhere, I figured. Sneaking into my hosts room didn't seem very polite or respectful, but I was running out of options, and, if I didn't find one soon, a pair of pants.

Never being in their room before, I opened several guest-room doors unknowingly. Who knew long, identical hallways were so confusing?

"Not this one." I shut the door.

"Or this one." I shut the door.

" _Or_ this one." I shut the door.

Finally, I swung open a more used door which squeaked.

This, most definitely, was not Euphemia and Fleamont's room.

It smelt of _boy._ And, if i was truthful with myself, not in an entirely bad way...

The walls were a glittering gold, small round objects zooming from corner to corner. I realized they were snitches. The bed was a brown four poster, like at school, except for the lack of drapes. A few athletes in posters waved when I walked in. There were two dressers, and one drawer on each overflowed with clothes. Replica Quidditch cups stood on display, while strewn bottles of cologne and deodorant littered the rest of counter space. A few pencils here and there, containers of ink, crunched up papers. Framed pictures caught my eye. I picked one up. There sat the gang of guys: Remus, Sirius, Peter…and James. They were drinking out of white mugs, scarves bundled around their necks, mushed into a single booth. All of them looked incredibly happy, Sirius laughing with his mouth open, Peter smiling shyly, Remus almost spitting out his drink. James grinned, his black hair shining in the soft orange light of The Three Broomsticks. I traced the shape of his chin with my finger. He was lifting his mug into the air, as if to give a toast to the camera. Or the viewer. His eyes looked dark in the lighting, but I could tell they were looking right at me. His picture-self winked.

The feeling in my stomach snapped me out of my trance.

Too late, however.

"Why are you in my room?"

I spun around.

James looked very different from the picture, yet still so similar. No scarf, no mug. Same hair, same glasses. And something else I couldn't quite place.

"Oh! Um..." My eyes darted around him, as if an object in my surroundings could save me. "I…needed…something."

 _Wow, great one Lily._

"What in particular that you couldn't find anywhere else in the house?"

 _A tampon._

Which, I realized, I _also_ couldn't find in this room.

"Forget it."

"And…. what are you holding?"

I looked down at the picture in my hand. _Oh bugger._

"Is that my picture?" James seemed a bit miffed, and a tad amused.

My face filled with heat. _Not amused. Anything but amused. He should_ not _enjoy this in the slightest._

"I didn't mean to- I came in here…I came in here looking…" I stood up straight, "I came in here looking for a tampon. Or several, if you have them."

"Oh."

The blush crept into my cheeks.

"Okay, well, I think my mom uses an enchanted object. I don't think they're tampons per say. I do know what it looks like though."

I took a breath and nodded, surprised by his maturity.

"Do you know where I could get one of them?" I squeaked out, playing with the ends of my sleeves.

He pulled his wand from his pocket, " _Accio Women's sanitary product of which I don't remember the name!_ "

I heard a door fling open from down the hall, the flutter of plastic in the wind, and suddenly a small wrapped item sat in the palm of James' hand. He handed it over, not the least bit skeeved.

"Thank you."

He shifted uncomfortably. "The rest are somewhere in my mum's room, if you need more."

"Thanks." I realized I'd been saying that to James a lot lately.

I inspected the object a bit to avoid his gaze, running my free hand along the edges, flipping it over. It looked exactly like a regular tampon package.

"So, you definitely thought these would be in my room?"

My head shot up. This again. "Uh, no. I couldn't find your parents room."

He smirked. "Or you just wanted an excuse to sneak through my stuff."

"Yes, that's it precisely." I said sarcastically.

His smirk grew into a smug grin. "And look at pictures of me." The triumph was everywhere on his face, his eyes practically twinkling with it.

I rolled my eyes, yet my pink cheeks betrayed me, "Obviously, because I don't see you often enough."

He held up his hands with a shrug, "Hey, I don't know what you'd want to do with a picture of me, I didn't want to assume anything too scandalous."

"Okay _no_. Stop right there."

"If you wanted one _that badly_ you could have just asked, Evans. I know how birds get on their period…"

 _How birds...hOW BIRDS GET ON THEIR-_ My mouth opened but I failed to produce a sound. I wanted to laugh and yell at him at the same time.

"You _bugger-_ "

"So it's true?" The way he inclined his head towards me made me even angrier. _That smirk! That smirking smirk! Fuck that smirk!_

Taking a deep breath, I composed myself. "Here. Take the picture. You looked horrendous in it anyway."

He raised his eyebrows.

I continued, "I just wanted to see how Sirius looked; he's always been the attractive one. It's the hair."

Feigning offense he took the frame. "And here I thought you'd be into Remus' intellect!"

"There we go," I smiled, "attractiveness and intellect, two qualities you lack." As I went past him and out the door, the warmth in my face no longer had to do with embarrassment.

"You just haven't been looking close enough, Evans." James said, his voice low in a way that shouldn't have been nice.

For once, I hated that James Potter was wrong.

 **~~~~~~~~~~J/L~~~~~~~~**

It's surprising how easily one gets bored without multiple friends to talk to. I spent a lot of time lying in bed, listening to my records, thinking.

When it wasn't James, the war, or my excessive bleeding and mild back pain three days in, one of the popular topics was Petunias engagement. A single thought and I could rile myself into a rant about Vernon.

Like, what did she _see_ in him? The man looked like a walrus! I understood he had a mustache that every girl liked nowadays, but really? It wasn't attractive! Let's just admit it! Unless he has a beard with the mustache, it isn't attractive. Just a beard is okay, but overall, clean-shaven is the way to go. Let's stop lying to ourselves. The guy isn't her type, either. Not to say she couldn't be attracted to a bigger person, because plenty of them are handsome, but I _know_ Petunia. Petunia has posters on her walls of 'pretty' guys. Guys with nice shoulders and subtle grins and fluffy hair. Heck, even I can acknowledge they're fit. If he didn't attract her, she had to adore his personality, right?

Wrong, because I can't even say he's a nice fellow! He grunts for a hello, no handshake, no wave. He doesn't make jokes, he doesn't have any capacity for banter or flirting. When I see him with Petunia all he does is grumble on about his work when he isn't staring at her like some horn dog. I'd rather see her with a man who annoys her with his obsessions or his puns than a man who can't carry on a conversation past "What did you do today, sweetie?" Where's the fun in that? If he can't make you laugh you can't spend the rest of your life with him and be happy. Hell, if he can't make you feel _anything_ besides 'secure' and 'content' he can't make you happy. Those are good, important parts of a relationship, but they shouldn't be the only reasons. He's boring! Worse than boring; he didn't even qualify for boring! They've never had big emotional episodes. Of any kind. No yelling, no happy crying, no anything. Relationships can't just be chaotic, I know, but they need _some_ emotional investment. Some feeling, some balance. With Petunia it's just "Vernon has a business meeting he's taking me to, it's at a fancy restaurant downtown, isn't that nice." There's no substance. Besides on occasions for work, she always makes the plans, yet gives him the credit because he's the one who drives. A guy should put in the effort sometimes. Both participants should think of fun dates, activities both of you could do. Even if it wasn't your favorite sport or whatever, it's nice to know the other wants you included.

And talents! The guy had none! I'm not joking! Not even a silly one, like juggling. Petunia's a good organizer, has a knack for makeup, and routines down to a tee- a trait we shared. Vernon on the other hand didn't do anything. He wasn't athletic, or into books, or watching the telly, or politics. He didn't seem passionate over anything! Even if he were an asshole, at least he'd be passionate over ruining people's self-esteem or something. Nope, this guy had nothing.

The only thing they agreed on was probably that his pay was decent and that I was a freak.

 **~~~~~~J/L~~~~~~**

Fleamont started fixing up supper when I came downstairs. We were having a chicken dish with homemade sauce. Or, at least, he wanted homemade sauce.

"I don't have the time for it," He said while hurriedly stir-frying a large side of vegetables, "And, if I'm honest, my cooking spells are less than spectacular."

I grabbed a pan and the bundle of tomatoes, "I can sub in."

Thus, we began. I cut up the garlic, fetched the spices, and put the tomatoes into a large bowl.

Between cutting the ingredients, Fleamont and I began talking.

"How've you been dealing with the anti-muggleborn stigmas, Lily?"

I shrugged, "Ever since I was a First year people made comments. I'm used to it. I find it almost amusing how a bunch of stupid millionaire purebloods feel so threatened by people like me." I looked up, "No offense."

Fleamont smiled- eerily similar to James'- "None taken. Historically we 'stupid millionaire purebloods' tend to suck."

I grin. "You're exempt."

"Well! Now that I have the Muggleborn seal of approval…"

"You can murder the rest of them!" I laughed. "They'll never see it coming!"

"Oh no! You unhatched my entire plan!" He even attempted an evil cackle.

Once our laughter petered out we worked in comfortable silence.

Fleamont and I switched tasks. I started seasoning the vegetables.

"Are you ever afraid?" I asked, grabbing the garlic, "For Euphemia ? I know she doesn't do a lot of field work, but sometimes, when she does…?"

Fleamont scrunched his brows together and frowned. "Sometimes. I know she's more than capable, but…we're not getting any younger. I worry for her emotionally, mostly. Seeing her upset…-" he looks at me, his eyes incredibly soft, "well, I never like seeing her upset. It ruins me. Just a bit." He gives a small smile. "When she gets a broken arm I panic a little but we have potions and medicine for that. It's when she's overwhelmed and having nightmares that I feel…very powerless."

I only nodded, blushing. The way he spoke of Euphemia seemed a tad too intimate for my ears.

"It's amazing," he muses a little sadly, "loving someone that much."

I laughed nervously, moving the pan around as it sizzled, "I wouldn't know."

His twinkling eyes gazed right through me. He gave a knowing, mischievous look. "Oh, you will."

His certainness made my face redder. _Damn my pale skin._

Fleamont glanced at me again, laughing. "Don't worry. It's only a little bit terrifying."

"Can't wait."

"You seem more than equipped for it."

"Really?" I huffed doubtingly.

"Really."

Right then the timer for the chicken goes off.

"You got those vegetables done Lil's?"

"Got them," I smiled, oddly enjoying the casual use of my childhood nickname.

"Good, the sauce is about done- I'll get the chicken out."

When we all sit down to eat, I can't help but notice how fondly Fleamont looked at Euphemia . Briefly, I wondered if that's how Vernon looked at Petunia, and that maybe I just never caught it.

 **~~~~~~J/L~~~~~~~**

Typically this occurred in the morning, but I suppose something about the acidity in the tomato sauce at dinner triggered my nausea. Usually the second day of a person's period is the worst, but, lucky me, mine usually landed on the third. I've never gotten sickening cramps like Marlene did or headaches like Dorcas, instead I got nausea and back pain. And, as usual, heavy bleeding.

That's why I didn't want to get up from bed to brush my teeth.

Surprisingly, the magical tampon worked very well, and there were little side effects: I only experienced a mild stomach ache throughout the day.

I groaned. I flipped onto my stomach, hoping to relieve some pain. It couldn't have been past 9 O'clock, which is why James came into my room, slightly concerned.

"I figured you weren't feeling too well." He stood by the doorframe, looking gangly and tall. He swiped a hand through his hair.

The situation was awkward, but we went through worse earlier that morning: I gave up and said, "That's correct," and planted my face back down into my pillow.

"I brought you some water, and a charmed towel. It, uh, stays warm up to a few hours. My mom uh uses it, for like, cramps and such."

I lifted my neck, "Seriously?" The surprise in my voice came out more than intended.

He noticed, "Wow, good to hear you have so much faith in me."

"Sorry, I didn't expect it as all, for a teenage boy to bring a girl some comforts during her period."

As he handed the cool glass and the towel to me his fingers graced over mine. He averted his eyes, "Actually… it was my Mums idea. She and dad are busy though so she couldn't bring it."

" _Aaaand_ whatever charm you had is gone."

"I had charm?"

"Wrongly credited charm; I was under the false impression this was your idea. Your mum deserves that now."

"So you find my mum charming?"

"Absolutely." I said, my words slightly grumbled by the pillow. "She's a wonderful woman."

He let out an exaggerated sigh, "Every person in this household seems to praise her."

"The only other person in his household besides you before I showed up was your dad. He _should_ praise her."

James wrinkled his nose, "Oh gross."

"Not like _that_. You're the one who said they were 'busy'."

"I didn't mean it like that, either. They're going over taxes right now."

I sat up and took a sip of water, "At least that's what they told you." I smirked.

He stepped back, hands shielding his face, "Oh _gross_ Evans. I am _appalled._ "

"Even I could see the way he looked at her at dinner tonight…"

"He _always_ does that."

I quirked my eyebrows, "How often did you say they 'did their taxes', again?"

He sputtered out a laugh, pink dusting his face, "You've got some nerve."

"Most people call it cheek."

 _Yes, I am thoroughly enjoying this._

He shook his head and wagged a long finger at me, but no words came out of his opening and closing mouth.

"Alright, Potter?"

 _The look on his face!_

His cheeks burned red. "I'm bloody spectacular."

I calmly put the heated towel under my back and folded my arms behind my head. I sighed blissfully, "I bet your parents feel more than spectacular."

He left without another word.

"Thanks for the comforts," I whispered gleefully, knowing he couldn't hear.

~~~~~A/N~~~~~~~

 **A/N- Sorry this chapter is so short! I thought it was a nice break after such a long, semi-dark chapter before it. I tried exploring Lily's head a little bit, so most of this is just inner monologue and conversations with others. And I wanted Lily to show her cheeks side. Plus, a few subconscious clues on her attraction to James ;) I hope you found it enjoyable and slightly more comical than the last chapter, as that was my intention. Thanks for all of your reviews! I love reading all of them, they really make my day omg. Also, if I grossed you out with all the period talk, I'm sorry... but also not? I hate how it's rarely** ** _ever_** **brought up in YA fiction, and not much in fanfic either. I thought it was a funny situation while also a realistic one, bc lbr, she'd have to deal with getting her period at some point.**

 **Thanks for reading! :)**

 **-Jackie**


	5. Horrors and Healing

**Horrors and Healing**

At 5:34 AM I got up in need of a lavatory. I'll spare you the details.

I didn't bother flicking on the lights since the sun was peeking up. The gray rain clouds mixed with a subtle pink. It warmed the bathroom, the shadows on the tiles shortening.

While washing my hands I heard a squeak, presumably of a floorboard. I paid no mind to it- until it happened again. Quietly I twisted the knob and shut off the water. I slowly dried my hands on the small towel, listening.

A gurgled groan sounded out from somewhere down the hall.

My heart rate jumped immediately. The groan wasn't pleasurable, like one I'd tease James about his parents making. It sounded painful.

Headlines rushed through my head: " _Potter family and guest murdered on Tuesday morning"_

 _"_ _Voldemort after Purebloods?"_

 _"_ _Why was a muggleborn staying with the Potter family on the night of their demise?"_

I pushed my ear against the door, hearing it again, along with a string of strained, sputtering curses.

Something heavy dragged across the floor.

 _Who_ , I wondered, _was in the house?_

I slipped my wand from my pocket.

There was a squelched noise. It made my stomach turn. The person started panting, the sound low and hollow. The scuffle of feet moved slowly and complicatedly. So much so I questioned why and how many feet.

 _What if Death Eaters had invaded and taken someone hostage? Was it Euphemia? Or Fleamont? Or…_

I steeled myself and crept to the end of the bathroom. I lowered the blinds in preparation. The bathroom descended into darkness. Reaching the door again, I cast a silencing charm, praying to all the House Founders that it worked on door hinges as well as it did on people.

With the noises far enough to give me some time, I turned the knob slowly, my hand sweaty.

As it swung open a few millimeters, I peered into the hall straight across from me, the door to my room still open. _They'd notice someone is out of bed soon enough._

Another creak, this time closer.

My heart pounded in my throat.

I flung the door open and pounced out into the hall, turning midair. Before I even looked, I straightened my arm and shot the spell my thoughts cast only: _Perfecticus Totalus!_

The dark figure froze and hit the floor.

My feet landed and for a second I held my breath. The hall remained silent. I approached the unmoving mass with caution, wand poised. " _Lumos,_ " I murmured.

The person was struggling to breathe.

A few meters away I realized the familiarity in the length of limbs, the curve of the open hand, the hair. My stomach dropped.

"James?" I gasped.

Immediately I whispered the counter-spell, running over to him and sinking to my knees. A silvery material was grasped in his hand, my mind vaguely comprehended it as an Invisibility cloak. His entire being shivered from the rain soaked into his clothes. I lifted his head up, one hand curled in his damp hair and the other positioning his torso. "What happened to you?" My eyes assessed his body, guided by the light of my wand. My hand shook while it traveled, "You're…you're covered in blood."

On the corner of his forehead a glistening gash dripped blood down his ear, along the line of his purpling jaw. Small, shallow cuts littered his face. A smudge of dirt was on his neck. I could tell a wound lined his chest from the dark wet stain starting near his collarbone. Hesitantly, I lifted his shirt just to check. _Oh Merlin._ It sliced from his shoulder to above his hip, thin yet deep. I put his shirt back down. His pants were ruined from mud and a puddle of murky blood. I couldn't see the wound, and I wasn't checking now.

He attempted a chuckle. The wince on his features made my heart hurt. "It's noth- noth- nothing…really- re-really Evans." He convulsed, and I realized he was trying to stand up.

"No, no, no," I shushed him, putting a soft hand to his chest, "You're laying right here. How did this happen?"

"Cant…" He sucked in a shuddering breath, teeth chattering, "t-t-tell-tell."

My words sounded watery when I said, "Don't be ridiculous James."

His eyes met mine, terrified and so, so, tired.

"F-full…. Moon."

I didn't get it at first, but after staring into his guilty eyes, the thought came to me. It made sense. He'd even visited Remus earlier today- now yesterday, I realized.

"Don't worry, I knew about him by fifth year." I whispered. "Now, let's get you into your room."

He shook his head and then grimaced from the action.

"Mine." I quickly substituted. I didn't want him hurting himself attempting answers.

While floating him would be ten times easier, that spell only floated objects. I could charm it on his clothes, but I couldn't move him once doing so. This resulted in me carrying him down the hall.

It was more like dragging with a few hobbles. I threw his invisibility cloak over my shoulder. I tried putting his weight on my shoulders too, and then on my back, and then just carrying him in an uncomfortable position. Dirt fell into my eyes. His exposed skin and dripping blood was blaringly hot whereas his soaked clothes froze me. The blood smeared on my skin. I continued despite my arms protesting under his weight.

Muscle weighs more than fat, that's for sure.

"Bloody fucking hell," I sputtered, and with one final step I let him fall onto my bed.

I shook out my arms and dropped my shoulders. I tossed the cloak to the side, not caring that it was miraculously absent of blood.

Looking at his shivering body I knew I'd have to get him out of his clothes before doing anything else. For one, they were cold therefore likely making him sick, and two, I'd have to get to his wounds, especially the one under his pants.

This was not a time for chastity.

With a flick of my wand my door closed.

"Sorry about this," I muttered, my face getting hot already.

He didn't even crack a smile at this predicament. He certainly didn't make a suggestive comment.

"James, if you can, please lift your arms," I kneeled next to him.

He let out a small noise, but moved his arms as high as possible. I leaned over him and tugged on the sleeves, scrunching up the rest. I tried pulling his head through. It became a bit of a wrestle with the wet fabric. In the end I succeeded, out of breath and sweating.

I flung the shirt to the floor. I pointed my wand, " _Tergeo_ ," I sneered at it, and most of the blood disappeared.

Turning back to James, I swallowed at the sight before me. Only because it was terrifying; his wound looked even worse without the shirt. Somehow it appeared darker, deeper, and bloodier.

"H-H-hope it…does-sn't g-g-get… infected," He managed. I saw his eyes look down and widen. He tightly closed them.

"It won't." I said confidently. Inside I wasn't as certain.

I quickly took off his shoes and his soaking socks, casting the spell on them as well. They landed beside the bed.

"Uh…" I stared down at his lower half. He was in jeans for once. The blue tint of the material was replaced by a sour pink around his ankles. Higher up the pink morphed into deeper shades, until it was almost black right around the area of injury.

The injury right at his crotch.

 _Fuck_.

"I'm, uh," I gulped again, fidgeting with my hands.

"'S oka-y." James mumbled.

I nodded. _I have to do this. It's not like it's sexual. Heck, it's disgusting. It's a matter of life and death._

I reached for his muddy belt buckle, "How did you even get these injuries if your clothes aren't ripped?" I muttered shakily, mostly to myself. "They're definitely from an animal." I hoped they weren't from Remus.

James turned his head to the side. I looked up. The noise escaping his throat was meant to be a sigh, but it didn't sound right. I expected an answer after that, but he didn't reply.

I focused my eyes back on the task at hand. I unbuckled and loosened his leather belt, my eyes constantly flicking to his face for a reaction.

"Tell me if it hurts too much," I murmured.

He slightly lifted his chin. I took that as an 'okay'.

I unbuttoned and then unzipped. The edge of his underwear became exposed, its tight band wet and red. Tiny streams of sweat formed in my armpits, my neck getting hot. I started wiggling him out of the jeans. I gripped the edges with clammy fingers and determinedly looked away as I pulled them past his hips and tugged them down to his knees. To his credit, he tried helping by scooting up, but I could see the way his hand held the side of my bed.

"No, no, don't. I got this." My hands shook.

His bruised knuckles relaxed.

I maneuvered the pants past his (surprisingly hairy) ankles, and then the heel of his foot. The jeans hit the floor with a clatter of buckle against wood.

I couldn't help the sigh of relief that left me.

And then….

 _Yep, there's a nearly naked James Potter in my bed._

I pointed my wand. " _Terego._ "

"Okay..." I lifted my eyes. The first thing I noticed was his face. He looked embarrassed, even with eyes closed. The mutual sense of mortification calmed me a little.

I finally let myself see the wound. Part of me wished I hadn't; far messier than the one on his chest, it cut through every level of flesh. Pink tendrils of muscles, tendons, and stark-white bloody bone gaped from his inner thigh. The blood pooled from it. It almost bubbled as it left him, sinking into the sheets. I couldn't stop staring.

"T-t-that ba-ad huh?"

I snapped out of it, hearing the shakiness in his voice. Avoiding the question I grabbed the charmed towel from my nightstand which, upon my touch, the heat enchantment revved up again. My eyes judged his body for the best placement and I decided on his neck and upper chest. I leaned over him and smoothed it out over the area, careful of the gash. Instantly his shoulders sank.

I vanished the blood trickling by his ear. "I'm starting on the leg wound first, okay?" I didn't tell him it was because it looked worse than the others.

He nodded, eyes closed. The length of his black eyelashes became defined against his paling skin.

"Who cares about eyelashes?" I rolled my eyes at myself.

"Wh-what?"

"Sorry…I meant to say that in my head."

He nodded tightly. The lack of usual smirk worried me.

I blew air out of my lips and shook my head. _Get it together, Evans._

I inspected the wound, tilting his inner leg outward. The hem of his boxer-briefs stopped _just_ about where the lesion started. In any other circumstance I would shy away from adjusting his underwear, but not in this case. Okay, in any other circumstance I'd flat out _refuse_.

I inched the fabric up a millimeter. _Good:_ the skin around it wasn't infected. There was a lot of damage though.

I aimed my wand, hoping the spell would be enough.

" _Vulnera Sanentur_ ," I whispered, trailing my wand along the wound.

James flinched. I held his thigh down. My grip slipped in the blood.

Slowly, the flow stopped.

"Sorry," I told him, and then bent down, "Here we go again… _Vulnera Sanentur_ ," I performed the movement again. His leg tensed up but the blood was leaving, the wound healing. It became smaller.

I sat up and took a breath. My pajama top stuck to my back. "Last one- well, for this one..."

Repeating the incantation, I moved my wand until the flesh slowly knit together again. The wound morphed into a strip of shiny, puffy skin.

"I need to apply Dittany so it doesn't scar."

I climbed out of the bed and walked to my school luggage, moving his clothes into one pile on the way. I pulled out my potions kit, and with it a small bottle of Dittany.

"Wait a second…" I started grabbing jars and lifting my cauldron out. "Let me just…" my bloody fingers flicked through my potions book. "Aha!"

"What is it?" James asked. His voice sounded groggy, but steady.

"There's a blood replenishing potion in here which- oh good I already tallied this one up!"

I took out the needed ingredients (a few added based on my estimations, a few crossed out): a full jar of salamander blood, ten lionfish spines, three eel eyes, flobberworm mucus, newt juice, and honeywater.

"The potion mostly requires salamander blood," I hurriedly shook some into the pot and turned it counter clockwise four times, lighting a flame under it. The liquid turned blue. Satisfied, I charmed the jar and spoon to repeat the steps three more times, and returned to the bed.

"I'll put the lionfish spines in later." For now, I uncorked the bottle of Dittany. I titled it over the pink flesh and let the liquid drip out. A sparking, charged, steam rose. It smelt like fire.

James hissed.

I bit my lip and I tried ignoring his responses, yet they still worried me. I smoothed the liquid over his skin. My red-stained fingers went up the length of his scar.

I laughed nervously, "Do you know deer eat this stuff? Must taste great, right?"

Either my attempt at a joke was that bad, or the pain too much, something caused James to choke. I didn't try and make him laugh after that.

After the sizzling steam cleared, I sighed contently. "This one is all good."

Then I pursed my lips, "I should probably wrap this." The only spell I thought of that wrapped wounds was _Ferula_ , except it automatically included a splint too. James _didn't_ need a splint near his crotch.

 _Wait! What a great way to get rid of that ugly sweater!_

I bounded off the bed and sifted through my drawers. I recovered the bright orange garment, and, rather guiltlessly, cast a cutting charm which tore the fabric into long individual pieces.

I climbed back into the bed where James still lay, looking dazed.

Unraveling a single wide strip, I placed it against his tight quad muscle and began wrapping. I got it around twice, lifting his leg up and pressing the material under it. I muttered a sticking charm to the ends. It did the trick.

"Not too tight?"

He shook his head slightly.

I scooted farther and closer up. I began working on his chest. I thrice repeated the healing incantation, watching his ( _yes, okay, defined_ ) stomach muscles tense each time until the wound finally closed. Then, to apply the Dittany, I moved the warming towel up and out of the way.

My hands relaxed against his warm skin as they dragged across the jagged pink mark. I traveled along the curve of his shoulder, his pecs, down past his navel to the jut of his hip bone. I tried averting my eyes from the dark line of hairs that disappeared under his boxer-briefs. The smell of fire filled my nostrils, puffs of smoke rising. This wound was longer; it required more solution.

While waiting for him to recover I poured more into the potion. First the Lionfish spines, and then the eel eyes, and, after more stirring, the flobberworm mucus. According to the book " _It takes ten minutes for the bubbles to recede for the addition of the honeywater"_. Although I knew better; with an extra turn and squeeze of Newt juice, it would be ready in five. So in the meantime I sat back onto the comforter with a new strip of ugly orange sweater in hand.

He sat up, looking only a little less pale. His torso was long therefore I laid out the amount of pieces accordingly. His new position made applying bandages a lot easier. I was pulling the first one around when he winced, "Ti-ight!"

"Oh, oh," I hastily unwrapped it. "Sorry."

This time, more cautiously, I reached across his back and pulled the end to the front. Every time I did this I leaned forward, almost as if hugging him. Heat radiated from his bare skin.

Seven strips lined his chest when I finished.

I dragged my arm across my sweaty forehead. I shut my eyes briefly before getting back to work.

"Now, lilt your head forward a little, will you?"

He complied, hazel eyes dazedly watching me.

I pushed his soft hair back, searching for the gash along his hairline. For its small length it was deep. Not infected though. The blood from it slowly dripped down his neck. I vanished it.

I steadied him with my fingers on the corner of his jaw, my palm pressing against his throat.

" _Vulnera Sanentur,"_ I murmured. James eyebrows knit together. I felt his Adams apple bobbing as he swallowed. For whatever reason, this made me blush.

" _Vulnera Sanentur,_ " I said again, healing the wound with each stroke of my wand.

He winced.

 _"_ _Vulnera Sanentur_ ," the slippery skin kissed together. "Huh," I mused lightly, "It kind of looks like a lightning bolt."

James cleared his throat. I heard it was well as felt it. "Don't apply the Dittany then, it must look cool." His voice was raspy.

"Oh shit," I startled, "Do you need some water?"

He nodded, "That would be nice."

I twisted behind me and reached for the glass of water he'd given me earlier, yesterday. It seemed eons ago that I teased him about his parents, surely not mere hours. When I turned back around I caught him staring.

"What?"

"Nothing." He took the glass, but his hand shook so much that the water sloshed onto the blankets.

If anything, the blankets needed some water: They were caked with dried patches of blood, dirt, and small puddles of Dittany.

"Here," I grabbed it back and lifted his chin, pressing the rim to his cracked lips. He drank hurriedly.

"Why didn't you tell me you needed water?" I asked when I took the empty glass away.

He shrugged and promptly winced. "Didn't want to bother you, 'suppose."

I rolled my eyes at his reply. My eyes caught the clock. "The potion should be ready."

Correct: the bubbling had ceased. I dropped in the rest of the ingredients and stirred three times. The color transformed into a dark red.

I brought the glass of liquid to a sluggish James.

He leaned back while I pressed the glass to his mouth and let him drink. He grimaced mid-swallow, but still finished the serving.

"That's disgusting." James swiped his mouth with the back of his shaking hand.

"So were your wounds." I put the glass back on the nightstand and picked up the Dittany. "Tilt for me again?"

I positioned myself next to him and smeared the Dittany on the small zig-zag.

His eyelashes fluttered against my wrist.

"I'm not going to bother wrapping your forehead: it's relatively small and won't move or stretch. There's really no need."

"Can you magic away the sweat on my other bandages though? It's pretty uncomfortable."

I did as he asked, and then did the same to myself. The stains of blood on my hands still remained, they made my finger nails pink.

"Merlin." I sighed and flopped down onto the pillow. He followed suit, tensing up a bit before resting his back against the headboard.

For a moment I assessed the room. A heap of his clothes laid in the growing light of the sun near the potion. The invisibility cloak shimmered beside his shoes. Blankets hung off the bed. I peered out the window and noticed the sun significantly higher than the last time I checked. I looked over at the clock.

"Wow, it's already half past seven."

"Time flies when you're catering to an injured person."

I managed a chuckle. "So... how'd you get these injuries exactly? Does it have something to do with the invisibility cloak you have?"

He turned his head away, unintentionally giving me a good look at his jaw. A bruise was blossoming there.

"I really shouldn't tell you."

"I just spent nearly three hours reviving your body." I deadpanned.

"I said I _shouldn't_ , not that I wasn't going to."

I only nodded slowly, waiting.

"I don't even know where to start…" He muttered tiredly. He rubbed his eyes. "I guess…. - do you know the shrieking shack?"

I titled my head, confused. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Every full moon…" He sighed, "Every full moon, when Remus…when Remus…"

"Transforms..." I finished for him.

"Yeah, that. He goes to the shrieking shack. The entrance is under the Whomping Willow. It's not haunted by ghosts or anything. Those noises are him."

"Oh." A pang hit my stomach.

"Yeah well, during the holiday we can't exactly get into Hogwarts can we?"

"We?"

"I'm getting to that."

I gave him a moment.

"So instead, we go into the woods by his house-" He immediately threw his hands up in surrender, " _I_ _know_ , I know, it's dangerous, but if he's confined he kind of just tears his skin off, and there's- we're a protective measure…"

He blew air out from his nose.

When he didn't continue I nudged him and said softly, "James, what do you mean, you're a protective measure?"

He let his head hit the wall, arm muscles rigid. "Fuck." He stayed like that, head tilted up. His hand pulled his chaotic hair.

"You can tell me."

"I- I… _fuck_."

I lifted the empty potion glass and filled it with water, "Here, drink some."

If someone can drink in an aggravated manner, James sure did.

He harshly wiped his mouth.

"Hopefully that's better than the potion." I said lightly.

His lips didn't quirk up at all.

I placed the glass back down.

"Okay so…" He took a deep breath, eyes still closed, "In second year, after watching Remus come back every full moon with scratches and injuries from himself, we- the guys and I- decide to take action."

I didn't like the sound of that.

"We- well it takes us _years_ , but in 5th Year we…we…"

He gritted his teeth.

"You guys do what…?" I prompted slowly, carefully.

"We become Animagi." He dropped his head to his chest with an exhale.

"Oh…" _My god._

"Not registered, obviously."

 _No shit…_

"So…it's illegal." I nodded to myself, "And highly dangerous."

"Yeah."

 _Well, what were you expecting from James Potter and his mates?_

"All for Remus?"

He finally lifted his head and looked at me. His gaze met mine, a fierce look in his eyes. The flecks of gold sparkled defiantly like galleons. "Of course."

The way he said it, so final, so unwavering, made my heart rate rise.

My eyes darted away. "That's actually… really amazing of you. Stupid, _incredibly_ stupid, incredibly reckless, but kind of amazing."

"Thank you," He sounded surprised.

"So…" I decided to give him a break, "what next?"

"Oh, well, we go with him every full moon and transform, trying to-"

"What do you transform into?"

James dragged a hand over the back of his neck, pink rising on his cheeks. "A stag."

"With the antlers and everything?"

"With the antlers and everything."

I snickered.

"Yeah." This time he laughed, and then he stopped, clutching his chest in pain. "Anyway," he sucked in a tight breath, "we transform and kind of corral him. In our animal forms we can connect to him easily and he becomes less aggressive towards us than if we were humans. We kind of play-fight with him, I guess, if you were to give a term to it. Only sometimes does he try and hurt us."

"Did that happen tonight?"

"Oh Merlin no. Remember how I said we use the woods in the back of his house during the Holiday? Well there's a bunch of unfamiliar animals in there, and during a scuffle between Sirius and Remus an animal got frightened. They ran into a bunch of cubs, which fled. It wasn't a problem…until the mom showed up …"

"And you got between them, naturally." I said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Naturally. I couldn't let Remus or else he'd tear the animal apart." He ran a hand through his hair, "Once he came to his senses it would destroy him, you know? Knowing he killed another animal."

"So you took the brunt of the attack?"

He shrugged, only his uninjured shoulder moving. "Peter got a few scratches, but when I transformed back they were still trying to control Remus. I knew I had to get out of there."

I let his words sink in. "If I hadn't found you, what would you have done?"

"Honestly?" He looked at me, "Probably bled out in the hallway. Maybe I would have knocked on your door. Maybe."

"You're so-" _Stupid? Foolish? Selfless?_ "Prideful. You're going to get yourself killed one day, sacrificing yourself for others." Even as I chastised him for being prideful, _I_ felt proud of him. Inanely.

"What, you expected something different?"

I rolled my eyes, a fond smile on my face, "Just…don't do that next time, if I don't find you first."

"Do you _want_ to spend another three hours tending to my wounds?"

"Oh never. I just don't want you to bleed on the wooden floors again. Fixing those stains would probably cost a fortune."

He grinned. An odd relief flooded me at the sight.

"What about the cloak?" I nodded my head towards it. We both looked.

"Family heirloom. I technically haven't inherited it yet, but I have more uses for it than my dad at this point."

"Like changing the pudding on the Slytherin table to feces?"

"More _and_ better uses."

"Well, it certainly does explain a lot."

He relaxed a bit, his shoulders sinking. "While I'm at it I might as well tell you about the Map..."

"Go on…" I grinned.

"It's an enchanted piece of parchment, it shows every part of the castle, even the constantly moving staircases and secret corridors. It also shows people, like walking around. It took us months to finish."

"Are you serious? Everyone in the castle? As they move?"

He smirked. "I'd summon it but my parents might see it zooming down the hall."

"Now _that_ explains a lot."

A moment passed where we didn't talk.

"I'm going to regret telling you all of the Marauders secrets, aren't I?"

"Without a doubt."

I snuck a sideways glance at him. The color was returning to his skin. He was sitting straight up, his hairy legs splayed out and his hands resting right above his underwear. The bandages around his chest were fitting but not restrictive. Slashes of new skin poked through them. It wasn't hard to imagine him in stag form, defending his friends from a roaring bear.

"My sister's getting married."

I don't know what makes me say it.

A smile light up his face. "Oh wow, congratulations!"

"No, it's not a good thing."

He scrunched his eyebrows. "Why not?"

A strangled noise escaped me. "I don't know. Actually-" I sat up straighter, "I _do_ know. Her fiancé is Moby Dick."

He tried to stifle his laugh, "A _What_ Dick?"

I waved him off with my hands, "A whale. He's a whale. He's a boring, snobby whale. He's so- eugh! Just! He's gross. He offers _nothing_ to my sister. He isn't a good conversationalist or sweet or attentive. He just stands there with his old fashioned slacks and broom of a mustache and expects my sister to fawn over him! He's not polite either. I don't understand it. How can someone be attracted to that?"

James fought back more laughter, "Good to know she has your blessing."

I glared at him.

"Sorry, sorry."

"It's not like she told me about it anyway." My shoulders slumped. "My mum did."

"You're still not talking?" His eyes went soft.

"Nope. I wish…I wish she'd communicate with me, but she refuses to answer my calls. I know the longer I go without telling her congratulations she resents me further."

What he says next surprises me. At the same time it doesn't. "Maybe you can visit her. So she knows you really care."

The surprising part: That he thought of the same idea I did. The unsurprising part: Visiting a place you can't visit was something James would definitely do.

"I actually thought about that…but it might be too dangerous…and," I turned my face away from his, "I would hate for her to slam the door in my face."

 _Do not cry, do not cry, do not cry._

James smiled sadly. "Hey, hey…" He whispered softly, "You can't control what she does. You'll just need to try your hardest. If she can't see how hard you're trying she can sod off." He grabbed my hands in his and turned towards me. I had no other choice but to look at him. "Tell you what, Lily. If you decide to go, I'll come along. I'll do whatever you need for emotional support. If you need someone to make that whale into blubber, or your sister into an actual Petunia, I'm your wizard." James grinned.

 _He_ has _always_ _earned top marks in Transfiguration…_

"How about it?"

In the light of a fresh summer morning, I looked at James Potter. This time I only focused on his face, the one with a few cuts and smears of dirt, the one with a wide smile. The tips of his black hair shined white and orange in front of the sun. I looked at James Potter… and I said yes.

 **A/N- OKAY THAT WAS PROBABLY THE LONGEST CONTINUOUS SCENE EVER! You have no idea how long I've spent on this chapter. I hope you guys thought it was entertaining! I understand if you think it's too self servicing and 'roll-eyes'esque. I'll admit it, it's tropeish. Ah well, I though for as 'are you kidding me' the premise was, I didn't overdo it with the sexual tension like I very well could have. Actually I had to take a scene out because it was just too much lol. Well, let me know your thoughts please! Your favorite line, a part that made you laugh, or whatever! I hope I managed the scary scene good enough, I don't think I'm all that great at writing horror scenes. As always, thanks for reading.**

 **-Jackie**


	6. Authors note

**(March.12.16)**

 **A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've had a lot of things keeping me busy, unfortunately. I have the next two chapters written but the most frustrating thing happened: my laptop charger finally broke, after months of being testy. So now my laptop is dead and I can't post the new chapters bc they were saved on it (I'll start using Google docs lol). When I get my new charger I'll post both the new chapters! Sorry to keep you guys waiting, thanks for sticking with me!**

 **-Jackie**


	7. Plans and Post

****A/N- IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE! So**** ** _ **apparently,**_** ** **what I'd said before had been a fucking lie! Which is great! Because now I can post this! I'll still keep the note up, just in case my charger decides to crap out on me as usual, but I'm very happy to now share this chapter! Only at a really odd angle does the charger actually work, so I can't really rely on it. Still, thanks for those who wrote that they'd wait! That's so sweet of you guys!****

 ** **This chapter is kind of lacking a theme. It's just building up to the main event of the next chapter. I got a lot of stuff after that too, so let me hear your guesses on where this story will go!****

 ** **(I always forget how to do the line breaker thing, ugh.)****

 ** **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~JLJLJLJLJL~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****

 **Plans and Post**

"What, did _neither_ of you sleep a wink last night?" Fleamont asked when I shuffled into the kitchen, donning fuzzy slippers, pajamas, and a grumpy expression. Don't get me started on my hair. James sat at the island, shoulders slumped and his face in his hand.

He and I avoided gazes and both muttered something noncommittal.

I had fallen asleep somewhere around 8 AM between feeding him more potion and checking his bandages. My exhausted state surprised me: I mean _I_ wasn't the one who fought off a bear. Nevertheless, I woke up in my bed, alone, at three in the afternoon. The chill in the absent sheets made me feel lonely.

"I wasn't feeling too well," I mumbled. I padded over to the food while rubbing my eyes.

James wore a black pajama top and dark gray shorts, which was smart of him considering the bright orange makeshift bandages underneath.

He almost looked odd with clothes on.

 _I can't believe I just thought that sentence._

"I know you're tired James, but I have a free hour or two, are you up for a game?" Fleamont smiled excitedly. "It seems like all I do nowadays is write letters and apparate to the Ministry, I've been itching to get on a broom- and the weather! The weather is great!"

James dropped his head onto the countertop, "Agh. I can't even say I want to. I'm wrecked. The guys, you know how they are…"

Fleamont turned to me. "How about it Lily? You up for it?"

I blushed in return and laughed, "oh no no no, not me. I'm lousy at flying let alone an actual game."

"I'll try and coerce your mother then, James."

Watching Fleamont and Euphemia Potter verse each other in Quidditch was extremely entertaining.

Despite their age, they were surprisingly agile; Euphemia cut Fleamont off several times, she even popped the quaffle out of his hands while she rushed by.

"Bloody hell, woman! That's gotta be against the rules! It was in my hands-"

" _Not_ against the rules!" I yelled below them.

"Keep your eyes open Fleamont, and just maybe I won't destroy you!" Euphemia hollered.

Fleamont whizzed after her, his hair pressed up by the wind, looking strikingly similar to his son, "Don't sound so mighty, now, just because you happened to be on your houses' Quidditch team-"

Euphemia laughed. She scored another goal.

"Right! I was on my houses' team, you know who wasn't on theirs?"

"Don't flatter yourself! The Ravenclaw team has always been shabby! You fit that bill perfectly!"

From our plastic lawnchairs, James and I booed.

"Harsh, dad!"

A blur of light pink passed us with a cackle and another, swooping goal, "Let him say what he wants! Listening to that is a small price to pay for winning!"

Euphemia: 130

Fleamont: 20

 **~~~~J/L~~~~**

In the following week Fleamont and Euphemia were rarely seen. They returned to the house for mere minutes, passing from one room to the next and then leaving in a hurry. While the death toll was rising, it only did so in single digits. Their lack of appearance in the house was due to other panics in the wizarding world; more traffic regulations, making it harder to get around, random explosions in public places, more dark artifacts popping up from the black market, and, something seemingly unique to James' family, organization for an "extravagant dinner party" I had yet to hear much about.

I sank into the gray leather couch and hesitantly flipped my Wizarding Daily over. The front headline read: _ANOTHER 4 MISSING._

"Missing?" I questioned.

"Anyone we know?" James asked. He plopped down next to me, only wincing slightly. Four days after his attack and the aches still pained him. A quick discussion with Sirius through his Two Way Mirror ( _James has a two way mirror also, along with his cloak! Do his parents_ want _him to get in trouble?_ ) revealed that the rest of the gang survived the bear attack relatively unscathed. Remus felt horrible about it, as James suspected he would, but in the end succumbed to the fact that it wasn't his fault. In the passing days I tried avoiding any thoughts about that event. What bothered me wasn't the image of James laying in my bed, almost starkers, ( _okay, maybe it bothered me a little),_ but more so the drop in my stomach when I'd found him lying on the floor, helpless and covered in blood. _Anyone would feel that way if their friend showed up like that_ , I tried reminding myself.

I shook my head, "No, the name isn't familiar. Hm…The Prophet usually denies the death, but now Wizarding Daily too?"

"Maybe they really are just that. Missing."

I flicked through to page three where the article lay. "Didn't that other family go missing a week ago?" The article read:

 _The Spinnet family hasn't been seen since last Tuesday. They're house looks completely untouched, inside and out. The Dark Mark is also absent from the area. Locals suspect the Spinnet's left of their own accord, afraid of Voldemort's growing power…_

"Honestly I've lost track."

"Yeah…me too…" My teeth worried my lip.

"Maybe they aren't missing at all." James shrugged, "Could be a false alarm. There was that family -you know the one working for the Ministry? - Two weeks ago they came back after everyone freaked and said they went on vacation." He rolled his eyes, "The Ministry is such a stickler for vacation days. The office practically explodes when my mom is even _late_ to work on her day back."

I nodded, and skimmed the other articles.

" _Barely Potions lead singer, Catherine Talyia, wears muggle clothing during concert, and sings a daring new song about the demise of PureBlood hierarchy, pg 17"_

" _Minster of Magic Junior Assistant suddenly sprouted wings from his eyelids, yet to find reason or cure, pg 22"_

" _Ways to identify Dark Magic in muggle objects, pg 34"_

Fleamont entered the room. I looked up, startled: his appearance was extremely different from when he played Quidditch a few days ago. He had bags under his worn, pink eyes, and a permanent frown between his brows. He wore his glasses, which he only had on for looking at paperwork, and as he massaged a crick in his neck he sat down on the other couch.

"Busy day at the Ministry, apparently. Three hundred crates of my hair potions were confiscated; it was being combined with dragon teeth shavings and Sphinx dung, marketed as some Dark Arts protecting paste." He dragged a hand down his face. "I'll have to inspect the factory, 'course. I doubt the teeth and dung are being put in there, but its protocol. Can't be getting sued, now."

I made a face. "I didn't even know that people did stuff like that."

"Oh all the time." Fleamont waved his hand nonchalantly and took off his glasses, "People will believe anything to feel a bit safer in times like these. Just last week a dozen or so bewitched necklaces were confiscated, thought to give the wearer ultimate protection against even the killing curse. Ridiculous. There _is_ no protection against the killing curse. The necklaces just strangled them."

"To death?" I asked, appalled.

"So far, no. A few minor injuries from what I've heard."

"Still," James sat back, "That's nasty."

Fleamont looked at both of us now, his red eyes switching from each of ours with a meaningful look. "I suspect when you two get back to school students will be distributing things like that. Keep an eye out, okay? I don't want either of you hurt from something as ridiculous as an 'anti-death-eater' charm bracelet."

I nodded rather seriously and then smiled, "So getting hurt from a duel _against_ a Death Eater would be okay?"

Fleamont's brows disappeared from behind his hair. There was a small twitch to his lips that he seemed trying to conceal, "I won't be fool enough to ask if that's James rubbing off on you. I've suspected you've always been a bit gutsy, Lily." He turned serious and tired again. "Still…try not to, please. It would be a shame to get expelled and injured in one go. Defend yourself if you need be, but-" Fleamont sent James a pointed glance, " _don't_ instigate anything. That's not bravery, that's stupidity."

James looked a bit put-out, but didn't comment other than a, "Got it, dad."

Fleamont picked up the Prophet and skimmed through, not looking surprised nor very scared by the news today. He seemed worn, eyes blinking slowly with every flick of the page. I returned to my paper. The bewitched muggle objects article wasn't very informative; anything with a glowing red aura and shaking of its own accord would certainly be obvious to most wizards as dark magic.

Fleamont suddenly rose from the couch, making both James and I jump.

"Got to see the factory now, when mum comes home let her know we'll need to go shopping soon," Fleamont stretched his back. It cracked. He yawned, "Me-erlin kn-oows we ne-ed" he yawned again, "so-ome food around here. Be back around midnight I suppose." With that, he went to the fireplace and vanished in a swirl of green flames.

 **~~~~~J/L~~~~~~**

I opened the top cupboard, shoved the jars of jelly aside, and reached far back for the cereal box. My toes pushed me off the floor. Still, the box didn't grace my fingertips.

" _Argh-_ Just…come…here!" I muttered, flexing my fingers. I was just about to give up and fetch my wand from upstairs to summon the box when…

"Here," said an infuriately familiar voice, "You're way too short-"

Without looking back I scrunched my brows. "Don't insult me! Just because _I_ don't possess the gene for height and lankyness-"

"Lanky? I'm not lanky!" His pitch became a higher, to my delight.

I turned on my heel simply to set my glaring eyes at him, however this proved an unsuccessful tactic of intimidation; I had to lift my chin just to look him in the face.

The smile on his lips told me he was thinking the same thing.

His glasses held twinkling eyes behind them. The pale green of his dress-shirt brought out the color of his irises rather nicely, and it was a symbol of his upbringing that he rolled the sleeves rather than unbuttoned his front even in such humid weather. I randomly remembered his school uniform was usually out of sorts, his tie loose, his shirt untucked. Yet… at home he seemed more kept together. Hiding a smile, I credited Euphemia for this discipline. His black hair was, as usual, lacking any forms of similar restraint.

I huffed and stepped aside. He grabbed the box with ease, plucking it from the shelf and sliding it into my hands.

From there we moved around the kitchen. I pulled open the utensil drawer for spoons, he swung open the fridge for milk, I seized a wad of napkins, he, a few slices of bread. His back rubbed mine when I passed him in a turn to get the butter, and I ducked under his arm skillfully when he slid open a drawer.

With a victorious thud the pitcher of pumpkin juice landed on the table, right as I dropped into my seat.

James sighed contently, lit his toast up with his wand, and smeared some butter on the grain.

"This is nice."

I shocked myself with that sentence, because _surely_ it hadn't left _my_ mouth, right?

Wrong.

"Yeah." James wiped his mouth, "I mean, I fancy myself some eggs too, but it's too much of a bother."

 _James didn't think it was odd, thank Grodric._

My face burned, much to my dismay. I hadn't meant that comment for the breakfast so much as the aspect of our routine. The fact that we had any routine at all, really. We'd navigated his kitchen knowing exactly when to move and rearrange ourselves for the others need, without saying a word. The idea made me uncomfortable because I _was_ comfortable doing that, like how I was in my actual home, back in Cokesworth…

The image of my modest sunny kitchen hit me with a pang of homesickness. Tuney would be there, probably around this time, eating cornflakes with a glass of cranberry juice…now with a ring on her left hand…

How had this happened? That I was sitting here, at James Potter's house? Having just arranged the table with him without a second thought, seated across from his pleasant form….

"Lily…you alright?"

I shook my head to get the ideas out of it. The action doubled as an answer.

"Well go on, what's bothering you?" His expression teetered between lighthearted teasing and actual concern.

"I- it's, just…ugh."

"Petunia." He deduced, taking a spoonful of cereal.

My head whipped up, "How'd you know that?"

"You have no problem talking about the deaths in the news, but you always have a problem talking about your sister."

"Are you saying I'm apathetic towards the people the Death Eaters kill?"

James, daringly, shrugged, "Not at all. It's kind of disconnected from us though, isn't it? Makes sense. Your sister is closer to home, literally and figuratively."

"What are you, my therapist?"

His spoon paused halfway to his lips, "What's a therapist?"

"Never mind." I planted my elbows on the table, leaned my chin on my hand, and blew some stray red hairs from my face. "I just got a bit homesick, that's all."

James nodded. He began pouring pumpkin juice into both of our glasses, his mouth momentarily filled with too much food for a reply.

"D'you think your parents would let me visit her if I asked?"

He tilted his head in thought, his jaw moving furiously. After a violent, very forced gulp, he took a breath and said, "We don't need to tell them." Then he dashed for his drink. "Aurg, that cereal is _sharp_."

I smiled at his antics. "You don't have to answer as soon as I finish a sentence, you know."

"Oh," he rubbed his throat gingerly, "but it would be rude of me not to." He said this like he regretted his actions immediately.

I rolled my eyes. James grinned.

"So, we paying a visit to dear ol' Tuney?"

"Only if we can get away with it. It's not the safest thing; the whole point of this program is so I'm not at home."

"I doubt the second you appear a Death Eater will too. We don't even need to stay long, do we? If it's only for a few minutes it won't be bad."

"Valid point. Although …given Petunia's…" I swirled my cereal around, not meeting his gaze, "Er… _aversion_ to me, I don't know how long it will take to make her listen."

James held his eyes closed for a few beats. "A few extra minutes won't kill us." He said softly, opening his eyes again. "We'll take my invisibility cloak, just in case."

"It'll also help to have you keep guard outside." I finally scooped up some Dragon-O's: I was thinking this might actually work…

"What, am I too rebellious to meet your mom? Don't think she'll approve?"

I choked. What I wanted to say was, " _We're not dating, Potter!"_ though, one peek at his smug face and I recovered.

What I did say was, "She won't. And I doubt having another wizard in the house will make Petunia more forgiving."

James laughed, "Well, seeing as it's your mission…"

"This isn't a 'mission.'"

"Sneaking out under my parent's noses with the potential of very severe consequences and a specific objective in mind sure sounds like a mission to me."

I smiled and continued to eat my Dragon O's.

 **~~~J/L~~~**

We decided to go whenever Fleamont and Euphemia were out food shopping.

"That takes them hours." James assured me. He threw crumpled paper balls into his rubbish bin. We were laying on his king-sized bed. His shoulder blades rested against his headboard, meanwhile I lay on my back staring up at his glittering ceiling, my feet near his pillow. The memory of him sitting in that position after I healed him flashed in my mind for a millisecond. "We'll be good."

However, I was more apprehensive.

"What if they come home and we're not here? We should ask them if we can do the food shopping for them."

"I doubt that'd work. They'll insist on coming with us for protection. And if they just flat out refuse I'm sure they'll be suspicious afterwards, making our plan a lot harder."

I screwed up my face, "Yeah…I suppose. And… if we go when they food shop we can use the Two-Way writing pad to distract them."

"Brilliant!" James laughed, "That'll be hilarious!"

With a subdued nod, I said, "I hate going behind their backs though." I lifted myself onto my forearms and watched as he chucked another piece of parchment into the bin. "They've been so generous. If something were to happen I might put the entire program in jeopardy, including your family." The headline " _ANOTHER FOUR MISSING"_ glared red in my thoughts.

His eyes met mine. "We won't mess up, Lily. Once you're done talking to Petunia we'll disapparate in a second."

"Wait." Surging forward, I sat up entirely. "Even though we can use magic at _your_ house, since the ridiculous Ministry doesn't keep tabs on who does magic in multiple-wizard households, stupid dolts-"

"Here, here!" James shot a paper ball.

"-It _will_ show up at _my_ house."

The ball fell inches short of the bin. James' face fell. "Oh. That."

"We can't floo to my house either. It's not set up."

James' fingers tangled themselves in his inky hair, "And asking my mum for authorization would be way too obvious."

Thoughtful silence swam in the air. James' window was open, letting the heat seep through in warm breezes.

"Portkey?" I suggested weakly.

"No," James shook his head, staring out the window, "We need authorization for that too. Annoying process, I hear."

I flopped back down onto the comforter. The scent of James Potter momentarily filled my nose: His spicy cologne, the sweet smell of vanilla, and a hint of something I had smelled in the dungeon during one of Slughorn's lessons….

"The only one that I can think of would be brooms. They don't set off magical traces and don't require authorization."

"It might be a bit of a trip…"

"My Shootingstar can go up to 70 MPH- where'd you say your house was again?"

"Cokesworth."

"Cokesworth…Cokesworth….that shouldn't take too long, especially not at top speed. Maybe twenty minutes, thirty-five in bad weather conditions." He mused. His voice took on a dreamy, mischievous air, "Of course my dad's broom is an older model, but it's not that far off in terms of speed, at least not over a longer duration of time. It's pick up takes a few seconds, though. I don't think we'd need a fast getaway so that doesn't matter."

 _We'll need a fast getaway if my sister decides to hurl potted plants at us._

My lungs heaved a weighted sigh. Overall, the plan didn't sound _terrible_. No Death Eater would be looking for two teenagers on broomsticks and my muggleborn status would be untellable once out of the bounds of my home…"How stupid is this? This whole scheme?" I asked James in a last ditch effort. I knew the plan was incredibly selfish and reckless.

He broke into a wide smile. "As someone who tried lighting professor Stickles on fire once, I'd say I'm not the best judge of stupidity."

"You're right, why am I consulting you again?" I said with mock coldness.

"Because I've gotten away with many stupid schemes before, and think we'll be perfectly fine with this non-stupid one."

It took a moment. As I imagined Petunia's grudgingly teary face upon my arrival, I said, "Looks like I'll be needing some more flying lessons, then."

 **~~~~JL~~~~**

The owl pecked my window quite forcefully, its wings beating at a rapid tempo.

"Oh-" I recognized it as Marlene's instantly. I hurried into my room and unlatched the window, and Marlene's owl swooped onto my dresser. He lifted his right leg.

Everyone else I wrote to a week or so ago had already replied, their letters filled with mundane accounts of their summers, light jokes, and a hidden worry about the recent headlines. It was nice, hearing from people who were able to leave their house and go to, like, Spain (Dorcas) or even a quick trip to Diagon alley (basically everyone besides James and me).

Marlene's letter made no qualms about the current situation of the Wizarding world. In fact, I was shocked she sent me a letter so unreserved.

 _Hey Lily,_

 _Great to hear you're having a relaxing summer despite your asscrack of a sister- not even apologizing for that, I know you still love her and all but she treats you horridly! And for something you can't control!_

 _I know intercepted owls are a possibility, but I hate being unable to talk about these things, I can't do it anymore. You know just as much as I do that everyone is at risk these days, and this will hit the news at some point soon either way, so…_

 _You know my neighbors? The Pessils (Or as my dear father calls them, 'The Pissils')? The ones who have their hedges carved into ridiculous fucking animals? (And no, by 'fucking animals' I do not mean animals participating in sexual intercourse. Although, changing them to that would be a great prank. It sounds like something Black and Potter would do, eh? I kind of miss their antics right now actually, Merlin knows we could all do with a laugh.) Speaking of laughs, last month one of their pruned gorillas looked more like himself, it was hilarious. Wait, sorry, that's not the point. The point is they're not home anymore. Just gone. Poof. Disappeared. I didn't see suitcases, or their owls in their cages, or anything to look like they took a day trip out south. They're the type of wizards who make a big show of their possessions you know? Of course you know; they have fucking gorilla hedges. Last time they went on vacation they brought all their things outside onto their driveway and took a few moments moseying around before setting off. Wonderful dragon skinned luggage they had, really great, bet it gets the job done better than any other normal looking suitcase! And for only ten thousand galleons more, who could turn down such an offer?!_

 _So anyway, it's odd, you know? That they didn't do that. I read in the papers about the Spinnet's leaving as well, and how people think they left of their own accord. I can see why, obviously. I suppose that could be it, and maybe the Pessil's sucked up their pride and left secretly…_

 _To give more detail, in the morning they just weren't home. Mr. Pessil usually comes out every morning to lounge on his porch and sip some tea, surveying the street with his screwed up little eyes. He loves glaring at every house that isn't a mansion like his. Except he didn't come out on his porch on Saturday._

 _We've knocked on the door and everything, but no one is there._

 _Knowing them, though, it's a bit fishy, isn't it? No news reporters have showed up yet. I think my mum will send for them soon, but we'll give it a few more days._

 _Another weird thing, their hedge-keeper came yesterday. He looked just as confused as we were. The poor tiny man even asked around, because he knows how harsh Mr. Pessil is about his gardening. He had no note about their departure either, nor any money that the Pessil's left in advanced. I guess it makes sense if the Pessils really wanted to be secretive about leaving, to not tell their gardener. But by having your gardener show up and ask around it draws some suspicion, yeah? Should've thought that one through a bit more, if you ask me._

 _They're annoying folk, but I hope they're safe and well._

 _I hope you're well too, Lily! Keep your wand out, will you? And let me know what you think about all this. I relayed the information to Alice and Dorcas, whom I'm sure will tell Sheila. I'm starting to get a bit scared, myself._

 _Love,_

 _Marlene_

I looked out the window after my second read-through. People close to my friends were disappearing. Suddenly everything felt a lot more real. _Would Marlene even tell me if she were leaving- if that's truly what these families were doing?_

 _Of course she would, you dolt._ I scolded myself.

A small voice in the back of my head said, _What if the families are not leaving by their own choice?_ But I reminded myself that there were no Dark Marks looming over the house.

I perched myself next to the writing desk and recovered a quill. Dipping it in some ink, I began my reply:

 _Dear Marlene,_

 _Holy Hufflepuff. That_ does _sound fishy. I remember you telling me about them, they sound like a trip. Also yeah that is something Black and James_ _Potter would do. Gits. Okay…funny, slightly charming gits; I know how you dote on Black's hair. Everyone and their mum does, really. Such a shame Potter doesn't benefit the same with his._

 _There wasn't any Dark Mark, was there? I bet you'd've seen it if there was. I hope the family is just escaping, and not missing. Do you know if they had any contact with dark wizards, or anything suspicious like that? Maybe ask the gardener? I can only imagine if something worse happened to them…I haven't heard anything dark associated with them though…_

 _I'm fine where I am, but I'll definitely keep my wand out. The Spinnet's have been lost too. I want you to be extra careful, Marlene. Yeah, yeah, I know 'Careful? How can I be careful? I'm a Mckinnon!' save it. I don't want the next headline in the news to be about your family. Also, try not to be so open with this information, you don't know the type of trouble this can get you into._

 _Gosh, I sound like my mum._

 _Anyway, go arrange those animals so they're participating in sexual intercourse, I'm sure the Pessils will be delighted someone kept up their garden for free._

 _Forever missing your sarcasm,_

Lily

Despite the jokes riddled through my response, I felt an underlying sense of fear in my stomach. I sealed my letter and sent Marlene's owl off after a quick meal of defrosted rat.

 **~~~J/L~~~**

Three days after I received Marlene's letter the information appeared in the papers. In the Prophet the article sat in the corner of a page, consisting of eight lines and very little information. The Daily Wizard had half a page devoted to it, and most of the material was exactly as Marlene said.

" _The Pessils, a rather boisterous family, have vanished suspiciously this week. According to their neighbors, they never passed up an opportunity to showcase their pureblood wealth or possessions, and thus say it's odd that the family didn't let people know of a possible vacation…"_

"That's the family Marlene wrote you about, right?" James asked once I finished reading the article aloud. He fetched the broomsticks from his sweltering shed where they were chained up. Throwing both of them over his shoulder, he turned to me with a worried expression, his face already perspiring. The weather was not kind to us today; the temperatures were declared to peak, and then taper off over the next 74 hours.

"Yeah. It basically says the same things Marlene told me, which is good."

"At least there's one newspaper we can trust."

I nodded grimly. I dropped the newspaper by the glass door.

He tossed me his father's broom and I seated myself comfortably. One of the downsides to his parent's busy schedules was that they hadn't had time to food shop. The upside was more time to practice flying…which I needed.

While we could go when Fleamont and Euphemia were out of the house for other errands, the time for such tasks was too inconsistent for our plan.

James and I rose into the air.

In the heat we circled his property: a large sum of green acreage that housed a considerable sized forest and a small lake hidden by foliage.

"Right!" He ordered. The volume of his yell wasn't necessary: we were less than ten feet from one another and the wind was non-existent.

Leaning with a snort, I veered right.

I didn't tell him that his glasses were slightly askew.

"Up!" He shouted suddenly, and darted skyward.

"Oh-" I tried following suit at the same speed without much success. Stray hairs stuck to my forehead, and I longed for a breeze. My fingers clenched the broom handle.

"Lean forward! Not back! _That_ increases your speed!"

I rolled my eyes but complied. He was right. _Of course._

We continued the perimeter of his yard for a few minutes at varying bursts of speed. Sweat dripped down my temple to my neck. There was so much moisture in the air that it would surely rain in the next few days. For the time being though, the suns warmth swelled in the murky air.

James waved his hand forward, "Follow me!" He aligned himself in front of my path and began performing maneuvers I wasn't prepared for.

"Wait!" I screeched, flattening myself onto the wood to catch up. I twisted up and to the left, and then down, and then rocketed back up- "Wait! Wait! _Potter_!"

I could hear his laughter as he flew in zigzags, "I'll know if you're cheating, Evans!"

My teeth bared, I followed his pattern. He dropped twenty-feet in a nosedive.

"I don't cheat!"

His shirt fluttered up when he spun to face me, no doubt delighted to witness my failure. He no longer wore bandages, for the bear wounds were barely distinguishable; only a tinge of pink signified the attack ever occurred.

James stared up at me, one eyebrow raised in taunting.

Determined, I sat forward and inclined. I dove down like a ten ton Hippogriff without wings. My hair flew back and my blouse flapped against my chest. Stomach dropping just as I did, I shrieked and felt my legs lift from the seat, which I quickly gripped the broom with and pulled up right before I plummeted past James. The broom lurched to a stop. Finally, I was eye-level with him. It took a few breaths to regulate my heart beat.

"Well, Evans." He wore a teasing smile, "That's not too shabby."

I nudged his shoulder with enough force he almost tipped, "You're just pouting because I didn't wipe out."

He laughed. "Explaining that to my parents would be a nightmare. They practically like you more than me." He said. For a lingering moment we stared at one another, his eyes piercing mine, his body poised in a playful stance. My insides squirmed. Then I took off, determined to shake the feeling.

As I shot by I hollered, "That's not a very hard thing to do!"

 **~~~JL~~~**

Over the next few semi-chilly days, while his parents remained busy, with, it seemed, _everything_ else besides food shopping, James and I mapped out our route. I had deemed it impossible, but as more families disappeared, the more time James' parents stayed out for work.

"We can go over here," I moved my finger up by the river, "Less traffic and more trees; better cover."

He narrowed his eyes. "Hold up." Thinking, he tapped his fingers on the map. "We're doing this in the day, right?"

"What, will your mum and dad go food shopping at 3 AM?"

His mouth teetered on a grin, "Ha ha. I'm just saying, for most of the journey we'd still be seen during daylight hours."

"Oh…and we can't use a disillusionment charm-"

"It'd set off the trace, yeah."

"Reckon we can go during night, then? Your parents would be asleep…"

James looked back down at the map, "I wouldn't want to risk that. Mum might be out on some mission, could come back at an odd hour. Plus it's harder to navigate at night…"

"What about the cloak?"

"Which one of us will be covered, then?"

"Both of us."

"We'd have to take one broom."

"You alright with that?"

"Are you?"

There was a second in which we both looked at each other, and then just as immediately, we both looked away.

"I'm fine with it-"

"-I'll steer." He said quickly.

I nodded. He fiddled with the edge of the small map. Then, in an attempt to lighten the suddenly awkward air, I chuckled and said, "Hey, automatically you're the one steering? I thought I was getting good at flying."

"Good?" He cracked a smile, "I said _better_ , Evans, I never said _good_."

 **A/N- Oh bantering Jily, how you warm my heart. Thanks for reading!**

 **-Jackie**


	8. Insights and Insults

**A/N- are you ready for this?! Either way here's the petunia chapter. I hope you all enjoy it, for it is rather tropey. As my friend put it, "its cliché and uplifting in the best possible way". Which I think is a good thing**. **Sorry the format is weird and there aren't any italics!**

 **Here we goooo**

 **~~~~~~~JL~~~~~~~**

 **Insights and Insults**

"Going out, kids!" Fleamont called.

James and I knew this already. Euphemia had told us hours before, so we had time to construct a "nice, lengthy list". Unbeknownst to her, the list was several days in the making. We copied down everything a house could possibly need onto the pad.

"James and I will be in the yard playing a game!" I shouted downstairs.

"Got it, thanks for telling me Lil's!"

We heard the fire ignite, a few words from Euphemia and Fleamont, and then they were gone.

I turned and faced James. "Checklist time," I said. "Number one: Broom?"

"Got it."

"Cloak?"

"Which one?"

I lifted my eyes from the parchment to send him a withering look.

"It looks like it's about to rain, Lily! How was I supposed to know you specifically meant the invisibility cloak?"

"Fine! All cloaks, do you have them?"

"Accio Lily's cloak! Yes. Now I have all of them."

I sighed wearily and read out, "Cokeworth map?"

"Got it, and with a waterproof charm."

"Good thinking. Wands?"

"Of course."

"Writing pad?"

"Yes."

"Pen?"

"This muggle thing? Yeah. Why don't you guys use quills?"

Ignoring him, I said, "Watch?"

"Yes."

"Engagement gift?"

"The necklace right?"

"Yeah."

"Got it."

The necklace had been a last minute addition. Since I was unable to go out and get one for her myself, I was giving her a necklace Marlene had gotten me for my birthday last year. Petunia didn't need to know that...

"Looks like we're all set, then."

The parchment still in my hand, I swung my arms a bit, sucking on my bottom lip with trepidation.

At ease, James threw majority of the objects into a small charmed pouch around his neck. He grabbed his broom and his cloak, and then turned to face me when he noticed my frozen figure.

"Ready to go, Lily?"

"Yeah." I got my things together as well, slipping my grey coat on and stowing my wand in my pocket. "This is kind of strange to me."

He gave a smile, "You'll get used to it. It's the feeling before pulling off really elaborate schemes, this 'waiting-for-it-to-happen' feeling."

I found myself agreeing with him; that's exactly what it felt like.

We descended the wooden stairs, the house oddly quiet. Our footsteps echoed off the walls. When he opened the front door, I realized I hadn't been through it since I first arrived a month ago, instead always coming and going into the house from the sliding door in the back. An entire month at James Potter's house. I'd survived that.

More than just survived, I reminded myself, for my situation was not as bad as I had anticipated. One could call it fun, even. In a flash I recalled James telling me that on my first day here, "I hope you do more than just survive."

We had reached the middle of his walkway.

Swinging my leg over the broom after James, I returned to the present, suddenly more aware of how he handed me the map and how effortlessly I took it, not recoiling when our fingers grazed one another slightly.

The turbulent wind and stormy skies resulted in little warmth on this particular summer's day. I felt goosebumps rise on my chest and so I zipped my jacket to my throat. I looked out over his yard, fear brewing in the pit of my stomach, my throat tightening at the potential outcomes. I was afraid to leave after so long.

He threw the shimmering cloak over me. "Can you sit on a bit of it, Lily? Or grab some of it? I don't want it slipping off."

I tucked some underneath me, "Worse comes to worse and we can just summon it back, right?"

While unable to see his expression as he turned and sat down in front of me, I noticed the way his head tilted. "'Fraid not."

"Oh." I was surprised, "We can't? Is it like that with other invisibility cloaks?"

"No, from what I know, just this one. There aren't that many around, though, so I could be wrong." James scooted up and got comfortable on the broom, "Hold on to me, we're taking off." He lifted the cloak over himself. His hair pushed against the fabric, making it rise with the resilient tufts.

I wasn't sure where to hold on to, honestly: grabbing his waist seemed a little intrusive and suggestive, his shoulders didn't allow for the best grip, and I might strangle him if I looped my arms around his neck…on second thought, his neck doesn't seem like a bad idea.

Kidding.

Timidly, I placed my arms around his waist, a few spaces above his hips. Turns out, the position was hardly erotic; his own jacket placed a good buffer between us.

"You can hold on harder than that, Lily." He said exasperatedly.

Smirking, I took hold of my hands on the other side of him and delivered a severe squeeze, my elbows digging into his ribs. He jumped with a terse shriek.

My head on his shoulder I said, "Tight enough?"

"Sod off!" But I could tell he was smiling through his squeaky voice.

I released my grip and moved back. His chest lowered significantly as he sighed in relief.

"Are you done with your fun, or are you doing my neck next?"

"Don't give me ideas now, Potter."

James shook his head slightly and then pushed off.

Similar to a cork popping out of a bottle, we shot into the sky, rising straight up. In the air the wind pushed against the broom, and James leaned forward to swerve against it. I followed suit. His estate shrunk behind us, the trees mixing with the shrubs, and then the green lawn mixing with the large squares of other combed properties. Soon enough we leveled off, flying at a consistent height. I squinted at the map. Just like he had with his Hogwarts Map, he'd charmed the parchment to show our location while we flew. I must admit, his spellwork was phenomenal.

Over the next fifteen minutes I watched the rural expanses sink into the distance. The grays and blues of suburbia approached. Streets were barely distinguishable from one another, their buildings sliding underneath in a blur.

Sharp wind rose from underneath the cloak, which flapped viciously. Despite its magical properties it seemed to still behave as normal fabric did. While it provided some shield from the harsh weather conditions, my hair still got in the way a few times. James sputtered once or twice, spitting some strands out of his mouth.

If I wasn't so preoccupied with my thoughts I might have apologized for that, but my mind whirled with worries. What if Petunia didn't accept my gift? Or didn't even bother to talk to me? What if Death Eaters showed up? What if Petunia started shouting horrible things at me, and then me at her, with James overhearing all of it? Would James realize everything Petunia said about me was true? Would Petunia even care that I flew all the way home just for a conversation, or would she see it as another cheap magic trick, never impressive, only vulgar? If Death Eaters showed up, what would I do? Apparate Petunia to a safe location? Where would a safe location be? James' house? How angry would his parents be if I caused so much trouble just for a stupid-

My eyes came into focus, looking at the map. Instantly I noticed we were veering off course, and quickly.

"TURN RIGHT!" I yelled over the wind. "WE'RE OFF COURSE!"

Sharply, James sped up and turned us. I gripped his torso instinctively. My chin slid into the crook of his neck through the movement. Just when I thought we were safe from tipping, a fierce gust of air hit us from the left side, unyielding in its attack. I found myself rolling, watching the gray clouds flip and feeling my stomach lurch. The ground below became more than just a blur of shapes, it no longer had shapes: it was indistinguishable from the sky. Getting ferociously dizzy, I squeezed my eyes shut.

It took a few, jumping heartbeats to realize we had stopped.

"A-re…are you alright?" James gasped, his figure hunched, breathing heavy.

I blinked.

He checked over his shoulder. His glasses lay lopsided on his face, but otherwise he looked fine.

"We turned too fast." I said, stupidly. I lacked the capacity to say much else; saliva overwhelmed my mouth with the sense of getting sick.

"Yeah. Sorry. Having an extra person makes it easier to roll, especially in these conditions. I should've been more careful."

The rest of the ride he was more cautious. I was thankful for this; if that happened again I might've vomited onto his back.

As I watched our tiny inked broom roam about the parchment, I gathered my courage for the moment this trip was leading towards. In the best circumstances, Petunia would hopefully be happy to see me, no Death Eaters would notice my Trace suddenly reappeared, and our ride back to James' would be smooth. I could only wish for these things, of course, for as we began our descent, the tightness of my throat made it hard to swallow and I realized how miniscule the chances were of all my hopes working out.

Trees morphed into single branches again, and then single leafs. The wind died down the closer we got to the street, although I did see multiple trashcans rolling past.

"A- a few houses down," I told James, "On the corner, there."

James only nodded, taking note of my hoarse voice.

"Want me to take off the cloak too?"

"Uh….no."

"Alright, Evans." He said softly.

Parked in front of my pale yellow house, looking dingy in comparison to James', I took a deep breath and dismounted. The grass crunched under my feet when I crossed my yard. I raised my hand and knocked on the front door. Quickly, I smoothed down my windswept hair, and then stopped, feeling ridiculous for being self-conscious at my own house.

The door swung open.

"'Bout time you got here. Bloody hell, you think I'm going to tip you now?" Petunia stood there, rummaging through her purse, blonde head down. She irately groped around for a 10 pound note but as soon as she located it, the note rolled out of her purse.

Before her frustrated cry sounded, I reached over and picked it up for her. She looked up. Her eyes widened, her hands froze.

"Oh."

Heat climbed up my neck. "Hey, Tuney," I managed. I unbent myself, even more uncomfortable from the idea of having to look up at her.

Standing on my own walkway, in front of my own house, staring at my own sister, I felt like an alien. My heart thumped harshly against my chest, demanding my attention.

She stood up straight, her head raised haughtily. "Why are you here?"

"I…I wanted…" My eyes found her engagement ring. It sat on her index finger, big and shiny. "I wanted to congratulate you-"

She laughed. It lacked any humor. "Now that you're here, we're in danger, right, Lily? So what's so important to risk that?"

My stomach went cold.

I stepped inside, closing the door shut behind me, just so James wouldn't hear the foul conversation to come….

~~~~J/L~~~~

Hands over my trembling mouth, I rushed out of the house. I barely remembered to shut the door. My several head turns to find James did no help; not with him underneath his Cloak and my eyes blurring with tears. Tears now shedding.

"Lily?"

In one fluid motion, he appeared, abandoning his broom and Cloak, hurriedly approaching my shuddering frame.

I waved my hand in warning, trying to get him to back away, but he only stepped closer, grabbing my shaking fingers in his. My other hand curled around the crumpled money I still held.

"What happened? Are you alri-"

"Please, I don't…I can't…she…" My response died out as I gave way to sobs. My chest hurt too much to feign embarrassment.

Looking increasingly alarmed, and a little at-odds of what to do, James guided me to the front of my house. I crumpled against the siding, underneath the closed living room window. I tried wiping my tears, but they kept coming. James slid down next to me. Our sitting forms became obscured by the hedges flanking my front entrance. His eyes searched my face.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he rubbed my hand gently for a few moments while I cried. Whenever I snuck a look I saw how worried he was, his brows pulled together, his lips pressed into a line. Our legs leaned against each other and our shoulders touched. For once I didn't care how close his body was to mine.

"What did she do?"

After several gasps for air, I looked out onto my street and began the explanation. My gaze followed the meandering plastic trash cans.

"She- she imm- immediately," I gulped, "She immediately flared up ab-about the d-danger of- of this. This visit."

"Wasn't very appreciative, I expect?"

"Not at all." Anger roared inside me. I threw the ten pound note to the floor. It hit the grass softly, unsatisfyingly anticlimactic. "She, she said I shouldn't have come, that-that everyone wanted me a-away," my voice cracked, "and that I wasn't wel-wel…come home any-anymore." I focused on my shoes. They morphed into splotches of black. My hands curled into fists, yet tears trekked their way down to my chin. "She's not wrong. I- I mean, I am putting- putting everyone in danger, and It's because of me that- that our…our mum… doesn't pay attention to her when I'm home…."

"Lily, don't say that-"

I finally turned to him, my glare blazing, "BUT it's-" I hiccupped, "IT'S TRUE! Everything she said! I- I do put our family in danger! It's because I'm a fucking muggleborn! And Mmum does pay more attention to me when I'm home! What if it's true? I can see how she'd say I came here just to find another way to make it about me, and not her engagement! And, and I don't talk to her as- as much as I shou-ould! Right? I haven't tried hard enough all these years, like she, like she said! At the age of eleven I abadon- abandoned our family!"

"She said that to you? You never abandoned your family Lily! You went to school!"

"Same shit, isn't it?!"

"Not at all!"

I shook my head and looked away, towards the street again. "You don't…you don't get it…I- I kept, I kept my distance, after a few years away… I never felt totally comfortable at home anymore, not after Hogwarts…"

"That's normal, Lily. You and your sister live in different worlds."

"BUT IT SHOULDN'T BE LIKE THAT! I SHOULD HAVE TRIED MORE!" My voice faltered, "But…" I shut my eyes, hot tears leaking from them, "she kept pushing me away, she kept blaming me, and I stopped trying…I shouldn't have…." My face scrunched up, and I felt my nostrils burn again. I gave a croaky breath and resumed crying in silent, breathless gasps.

This time James reached behind me and wrapped his arms around my quaking shoulders. "If someone keeps pushing you away, of course you're going to stop trying, at some point."

And, for some reason, I didn't think he was talking just about Petunia.

"Listen Lily, it's shit that you feel this distance with your family, but you have been trying. You're trying right now. Petunia keeps punishing you for something you can't control."

"What about this sickening feeling in my stomach? I haven't told them about the war until I had to, I never talked to Petunia about my friends…or…or boys or stupid shit like that, I haven't been open with my mum about the dangers of the Wizarding world…"

"Fine! So what? In any muggle circumstance you wouldn't tell your family tons of things."

I sloppily wiped my nose with my sleeve. "It doesn't feel right. It feels more serious than it would be if I were a muggle."

"That's because your sister uses it against you."

"It doesn't make the entire situation her fault!"

He tilted his head, trying to make up his mind, and then said, "You can defend her all you want Lily, but please, don't go blaming yourself. She's a damn right cod."

I didn't answer.

"I mean," He continued, "She wants your abilities, and hates that she wants them, so she tries to hate you instead!"

"You…" I turned to him, sobs bubbling in my chest, "You think she hates me?"

"Oh. Oh Merlin, no, Lily. I just…" His horrified expression coupled with his suddenly tense body illustrated how panicked he was. "She tries to hate you. I find it sort of unbelievable how she can love at all, really, with a shriveled up heart like hers. If she has the capacity to love anyone it'd be you, Lily."

I hiccupped a weak laugh.

He continued his tangent, his hand pushing up his hair, "She doesn't understand how wonderful you are, or how you find the best in everyone! I mean, you were friends with Sniv-Severus for years! Look at how he treated you, in the end! For once, Lily, see how grimy your sister is."

"Well… I…she's…she's a bit of a tosser sometimes…"

"That's right!" James grinned triumphantly. "Such a tosser! The epitome of tossers! Look at how much she's making you cry, Lil's!"

"Okay, she makes me cry a bit…-"

"An awful lot. And after you try congratulating her, no less!"

"It is sort of…rude…"

"Rude? It's dishonorable! It's disgusting! It's her being utterly unappreciative of everything you do for her! For how much you still care, after years of her pushing you away!"

I nodded.

"Fuck Petunia!" He yelled, his grin growing larger, "Fuck Petunia and her shrill voice and raisin of a heart!"

"James," I hissed, "Keep your voice down."

He shook his head fervently, "No, Lily! I want you to say it with me! Fuck Petunia!"

I gaped at him, my face hot now from embarrassment, "Potter, keep your voice down."

"FUCK PETUNIA!" He cupped his hands around his mouth, drawing me closer to his chest since his arm was still wrapped around me, "FUCK PETUNIA AND HER HORRIBLE TASTE IN MEN!"

Despite everything raging inside me advising against it, I laughed. A drop of rain fell onto my nose.

"FUCK PETUNIA!" James repeated. He stood up, clearly exhilarated from my laughter, and began walking to the side of the house. His eyes searched the house hungrily. "Which window is hers, Lily?"

"No, James-"

"FUCK YOU PETUNIA!" He shouted, and wheeled a pebble at one of the curtained windows. I could hear her pop music blasting even from out here, along with her extremely loud hairdryer. It would take as voice amplifying charm for her to hear him. "YOU'RE A RUDDY EXCUSE FOR A SISTER, PETUNIA EVANS!"

I scrambled up, grabbing his throwing arm, "She's going to kill us!" Though, I doubted she could hear us at all. It was more so committing the act that worried me.

"Well," He leaned his head down onto his shoulder to look into my eyes, "She already broke your heart. I don't think killing us would do much more damage, to tell you the truth."

My grip on him slackened. Staring at him, while he resumed shouting foul phrases at the side of my house, I understood, fully, the impact of his previous words. I realized James Potter, of all people, was standing up for me like Petunia should've been for all these years. Standing up for me like I should've been doing for myself. Angrily, with words of fury, refusing to back down. Yeah, she did break my heart…she has been a downright cod. I've been believing in her for so long, trying to rekindle what we had for so many years, just like with Severus, that she's stomped all over me…Made me feel bad for this wonderful ability she doesn't have…

The rain was sprinkling now, not enough to be a bother. James hurled another stick at the siding, "I'M GOING TO TRANSFIGURE YOU INTO A SLIMY EARTH WORM! THEN YOU'D ACTUALLY HAVE TO EAT SHIT!"

"Her window is high up, the second one to the left," I whispered, staring at the tiny flower beds.

"FUCK PE- what'd you say?" James looked at me, arm mid swing.

"Her window," I said more certainly, lifting my head, eyes boring into his, "It's up high," then I smiled, "It's the second one to the left!"

James looked at me like he never has before- or maybe I'd just never caught it- with awe, and with pride.

Eyes steadily on me, he handed the stick over.

I screamed, and chucked it. "YOU'RE AS HEARTLESS AS A DEATH EATER!"

James roared with laughter.

We began an attack on my sister's window, comprising of a whirlwind of curses, incredibly creative- not completely accurate yet still applicable- insults, and several dozen rocks and twigs.

"YOU'RE AS FOUL AS DRAGON DUNG!" I shrieked, my voice now hoarse.

"SMELLS JUST AS GOOD AS ONE TOO!"

Then, a flash of bright red caught my eye. For one sharp second my heart lurched, thinking it was a spell from a Death Eater.

Standing on the sidewalk in front of my home in the pattering rain was, with a red hat on, the pizza delivery guy, staring at us.

"Oh… shite…" James mumbled, dropping his newly acquired rock.

I knew what to do. "I got this."

Completely stony faced, heart pumping with revenge, I walked up to the baffled teenage boy. His face was riddled with pimples, his hair a mop falling into his eyes. I couldn't tell if he was slightly older than me or slightly younger.

My grin was wicked, imagining Petunia's reaction to what I was about to do, "Thank you for the pizza-"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly suspicious. "Are you-?"

"-Petunia Marie Evans who ordered a pie with olives and pineapple? Yes."

Not entirely convinced, the guy didn't hand over the box just yet. "Money?" He asked.

I looked down at my hand and realized I had thrown the bill down somewhere in the yard…

"Here you go!" James came up from behind me. The bill rested in his palm. James grinned, pulled the red hat off the boy, smacked the crumpled wad into it, and placed the hat back onto the now, affronted, boy's head. "You can keep the change!"

When the kid resumed standing there, fuming, James looped his arm around my waist casually, as another signal for the kid to leave. I leaned into him, winding my arm around his shoulders. A second passed where the guy seemed to fight against himself, his face growing into a bright shade of purple, then, with a huff, he handed the box over to me and returned to his car.

Fighting a grin, I waved while the car started up. It pulled into the street and maneuvered away. Standing in front of my house like this, James and I must've looked like some young married couple posing for an odd Christmas card; His arm tucked on my hip, mine behind his neck, our bodies standing side by side, identical grins plastered on our faces, my hand held in greeting. The odd part included the pizza box, the fact that it was summer, and that James and I weren't a young married couple, or even a couple at all.

The moment the pizza car disappeared down the block James and I dissolved into a fit of laughter.

"That was bloody brilliant!"

"His face when you put his hat back on!"

We continued gasping for air until James startled up. "Holy Hippogrifs, Lily-" James raised his watch to my eyes, it was almost an hour since we left. "We've got to get going."

We vaulted onto the broom, threw the Cloak on ourselves, and lifted off. As soon as we reached the air, rain began pouring in earnest, but nothing, not even my hair being ruined or my stolen pizza turning soggy could wash away my smile. I even encouraged James to do some of those dizzying flips on the way back.


	9. Authors note April 10th 2016

**A/N- sorry to those who get an email that this updated and it's just an authors note!**

 **My life is a little chaotic rn, and not only that, when I do have time I just cannot seem to make myself write. The next chapter(s? See I don't even know how many there'll be for these scenes!) have to be written and paced percisely in a very specific order to make sense and it's all very hard to do, and thinking of all of it gets me overwhelmed which doesn't help when trying to write lol. Also I just feel like...nobody cares, really? And I'm worrying that the longer I don't update, the less people will care, but I don't want to deliver a shit chapter! I didn't want to leave you guys in the dark. I'm NOT abandoning this fic! I know exactly how it ends and I know majority of what leads up to that ending, it's the whole "getting there" that's the problem. I wanted you guys to know why I haven't been updating. It's basically just: getting ready for college, busy doing track, etc, and lack of motivation and a surplus of anxiety.**

 **Still, thanks for all your comments and reviews! Seriously every one of them makes me so happy and fuels me to write more!**

 **Itd be really nice to hear from you guys. On here or even on tumblr. Mine is Folieacutie, same as my username here.**

 **Thanks for reading, and hopefully understanding. I'll try to finish a chapter and post soon.**

 **-Jackie**


	10. Dress and Distress

**Dress and Distress**

Slowly, I swirled the noodles in my soup. The sunlight glittered off the spoon so that my warped reflection gazed back at me. I looked pretty glum.

"Of course we'd still go," Fleamont was saying, voice still bogged from lack of sleep. "We all need a reason to get out of the house. It gives us something to celebrate."

"Ugh. Don't tell me they'll be extra security."

"How can there not be, James?" Fleamont scoffed.

I heard James crunch on his toast, "I hate that."

"Well I rather you 'hate that' than disappear because some Death Eater decided to drop in."

"Yeah, yeah," James sighed. "Still…"

I didn't listen to the rest of his argument; I was trying to not pay that much attention to him, thank you very much. It dawned on me that I spent a lot of time paying attention to him- A lot of time with him, period.

You do live with him Lily, paying attention to him is kind of inevitable.

James laughed.

Not like this though.

"Think she could pass for a Weasley?"

"Definitely, even if she is a different shade of ginger."

I had a problem.

Ever since the Petunia Event ™ I felt this shift between us. Or maybe it was just me.

I thought of James Potter in an... dare I say it... endearing way.

"You will have to go out shopping with Euphemia and Stella. Can't have your cover blown now. Euphemia can get you some dress robes, Lily."

How had I let him get so close to me? And how was I comfortable with it? What had changed? Me? Was I a completely different person before arriving here? Perhaps now less judge-y and more sympathetic? What else could explain why I now considered James Potter with a smidge (smidge) of affection?

Or was it he who changed? No one, besides Severus, could deny James' increased maturity.

Maybe both?

Or maybe I became more susceptible to his charms because anyone with eyes could see he had grown into a rather fit young man.

"Oh jeeze, Stella? As long as she doesn't see me, I'm good." James shuddered, "The way she pinches my cheeks… good luck Evans."

I'm sure James thought my sudden distance came as a side effect of losing all contact with Petunia, and I'd let him go on thinking that; the reality could never be known.

"Lily? You awake honey?" Fleamont tapped my side of the table.

"Oh!" The spoon slipped into my soup. "Sorry." I shook my head. I concentrated on taming my rising blush. "What did you say?"

Fleamont gave me a funny look, yet he didn't press. "Just that Aurelia is having her annual summer party in a few days. We'll be heading up there for a week. Mum and I figured you guys have been cooped up in this house for too long. It'll be nice to take a trip, won't it?"

I nodded weakly. The thought of going to a wizarding party, having to see James dressed up... to pretend I wasn't endangering everyone there...

"I know what you're thinking, and yes everyone will be safe. You'll learn some of the Weasley family tree too, and that party has enough aurors as guests that having people on duty will seem ridiculous-"

James opened his mouth, finger already raised.

"-Don't even start, James- We'll need for you to go shopping, Lily. Can't give our cover away now."

I furrowed my brows. "For...food?"

Fleamont chuckled, "For clothing! You need evening wear and casual robes."

"Oh."

Fleamont stood up and pushed in his chair. "Euphemia and Stella will take you."

James snorted, "Have fun."

You should consider that noise to be obnoxious. Obnoxious. Obnoxious. Nothing other than obnoxious. Or annoying.

"…. You feeling okay?" Fleamont peered at me while he slid into his jacket.

James leaned his arm on the table and cocked an eyebrow, "She's been a little quiet lately dad, I don't know what we've done with her, but maybe dress shopping with wonderful Ol' Stella will bring her out of it."

~~~JL~JL~JL~~~

Prat.

"Wonderful ol' Stella" was a woman who, while rather sweet, insisted on pinching every surface of my body upon our introduction. I swear, If she pinched my bum I wouldn't have been surprised.

"Oh darling!" Her large chest squished into me while we hugged. Instantly she pushed me away, holding me at arm's-length. "This is the girl you have been raving about?" She didn't even glance at Euphemia for confirmation. "She is so precious!" Cheek pinch one, "Look at those eyes! Her hair!" Her stubby fingers picked up some strands, "This color! Well we certainly can't put you in green or pink now can we?!" Cheek pinch two, "You'd look like a walking Christmas tree!" The laugh that rose from her bosom shook her whole squat frame. "Wonderful, wonderful!"

"Yes, yes, quite." I noted Euphemia's silent apology towards me.

"I know just the robes for you! You have such a nice figure!" Cheek pinch three.

I suspected I'd see bruises on my face later.

"Let me get you a selection! You'd look fabulous in what I have in mind!"

Thus began the madness.

Euphemia ushered me into a dressing room, big poofs of cloak in my arms and fabrics tangled at my feet. Luckily, amidst the chaos and constant undressing and re-dressing, my time to think about James Potter was limited.

"Now, now dear, try that one!" Stella exclaimed from outside the door.

Euphemia sighed while she slipped the new selection onto the rack, but her smile was good natured.

"She's just being helpful…."

"Well... I certainly have options!" I replied cheerfully. I plucked a dark blue dress from the hook.

"You're okay?"

"A bit frazzled," I admitted while I tugged it over my head. It got stuck. Euphemia huffed and grabbed the ends. After some struggling, we fit it over.

"I hate to bring this up to you now…"

"What is it?"

"No, this...this isn't a great time for you…"

"No, no," I assured her, smoothing down the crinkles, "It's fine, go."

She held my eyes in the mirror.

It struck me how similar her eyes were to James'.

"James...has….always-" She squeezed her eyes shut, grimacing. "This is ridiculous."

I fingered with my necklace I had planned to give Tuney. "What...is?"

"He's very fond of you."

My stomach burned.

"Ever since he was little, really around third year, he wouldn't stop talking about you."

"Oh."

"I mean," she laughed nervously, her hands swiping my hair over to fasten the back of the robe, "He would doodle your initials on his notes! Can you believe that?!"

I could not.

Her laughter died down. She patted her chest in a flustered way, "For the past year, however, he hasn't said much," her fingers worked the buttons, "nor have I found anything in his school books. So, please don't worry about that!"

For once I hadn't been. Not even a little bit.

"It was just a small crush. I'm glad you two are friends now. And he still is very fond of you. I think he really admires your charm, Lily. He likes having friends who match his wit." She finished clasping the back.

I nodded numbly. My head buzzed with the words, "your initials in his notes", "for the past year he hasn't said much" and, "friends."

"So, since you two are finally on good terms, I'd hate to force either of you into anything…you are completely free to do what you wish and decline… "

"W-wh-" I cleared my throat, "What do you mean?" My face felt hot.

"Ah, you're aware, we have to pretend you're a Weasley. Fleamont and I agreed it'd be a good excuse to also say you're James' girlfriend. Why else would we have a girl from another family over for such a long time?"

"Say I'm James' girlfriend?" I repeated. I'm James' girlfriend? I'm James' girlfriend?

"Yes. Now, I know it's silly, but it's an extra safety measure, and, well, people would probably wonder anyway."

"Did she get the dress on?!" Stella shrieked.

I met Euphemia's eye in the mirror again. Her gaze was asking.

"Sure." I forced a smiled, "I wouldn't mind. It… makes sense...I'll...I'll talk to James about it."

"Oh, really? You would do it? I don't want either of you uncomfortable. Please, you're a guest here Lily. And you'd only have to say you're dating. Your regular display of friendship should convince enough people."

I looked down at my bare feet and then turned to face her. "I'm a guest because you're basically saving my life. Pretending to date your son for a few days is the least I can do." For good measure I added an eyeroll and a smirk, "It makes my relocation less obvious anyway. We'll all feel safer."

It was true, too. So why did I feel so nervous...and let down?

I stepped out of the 2467th dress, my jaw set and shoulders squared. Not only was dress shopping exhausting, my mental battle didn't make it any easier. Before you go on berating me, no, this sudden rise of affection towards James wasn't from his physique, or his mum letting me in on a few embarrassing secrets. It didn't influence how I felt comfortable crying in his embrace, how he made me laugh despite my heart breaking, how his fiery attack on my sister lit my fury up too.

I sighed. "For the past year he hasn't said much."

"Lily? Dear are you alright?"

"Yeah," I called out, and then cleared my throat. "Getting on the last dress."

The facts were this:

Somehow, impossibly, James became sweet.

Somehow, even more impossibly, I enjoyed that.

He was fit. Duh.

I...cared about him? Maybe?

He must care about me, given his reaction two days ago.

Scratch that last one. Given his mother's speech, he no longer had those feelings.

He had matured.

I had become less hostile towards his behavior.

Despite all the points mentioned above, the world had not spontaneously combusted.

Now that was the prize winning question: how had the world not spontaneously combusted?

I zipped up the last gown.

Clothing floating behind us, our trio walked up to the shiny marble counter.

"Will this be all of it?" The worker asked. Her bright pink lipstick reminded me of muggle makeup.

"Yes." Euphemia answered for me. She appeared tired, as usual, but content.

"They're friends of mine, Tiffany, give them a discount." Stella said while

she bustled behind the counter and began folding our clothes with a flick of her wand. 'Tiffany' rung us up.

"That'll be 300 galleons."

I gaped.

Immediately Euphemia laid a hand on my arm.

"It's fine Lily. You deserve a good set of formal wear. Think of it as a gift for…." She tilted her head, "our agreement…?" Proposition?

Surprising myself, I laughed. "You mean bribe?"

"Since you're dating my son," She handed the galleons over and smiled cheekily, "absolutely."

~~~JL~JL~JL~~~

We returned to the Potter Estate with bags upon bags of wizarding wear, tired ankles, and in need of a nap.

I didn't get a nap. What I got was more bad news.

"Essex this time." Fleamont tossed the paper to us while he agitatedly ran a hand through his hair.

Euphemia's eyes darted along the page, "A family? Again?"

"Just the father of one. Everyone else seems safe. They won't disclose names for that reason."

"That's a bit different." I mumbled. How casually I reviewed the information worried me. Was this really normal now? I sunk down into the kitchen chair, staring at the counter. One minute you're dress shopping and worrying about a boy, and the next...

"The family said he vanished instantly." James filled us in. "His daughter left the kitchen and when she came back the father wasn't there."

"Maybe he apparated? They didn't have a fidelius charm did they?"

"They're not sure how he left, and apparently they didn't have one. Doesn't seem like a murder, though, just a kidnapping. Might turn up."

I swallowed. "Might turn up...good news then…"

Yay for kidnappings! Better than murder!

~~~JL~JL~JL~~~

The odd part was amidst the killings, disappearances, and Euphemia's urgent calls into the Ministry, we were getting ready for a week-long party.

So when we talked about the latest death, I was packing my glittering new robes into a trunk and James was mumbling to himself and hunting down his gold cufflinks.

James had been searching everywhere in his room, from his highest shelves to underneath his dresser for a good seven minutes. "Blimey," he screwed up his face, his arm reaching as far as it could go. "Hate how we put anti-theft charms on these things."

"James! I found them!" Fleamont called from the other room.

"Thank Merlin."

Once he exited I let out a sigh of relief.

It wasn't that I didn't want to see him. It was...that I..did -for reasons I won't list again- and seeing him reminded me of the 'fake dating' proposition.

After the conversation with his mum all of his actions shined in a different light. It all made sense. Of course he no longer acted like a complete shit face around me; he didn't like me anymore! He didn't try and 'impress' me now. He treated me like a friend!

Shouldn't I feel relieved? I wanted this before coming here. So why not now?

Also, how does one go about the topic of fake dating?

"Lil's, did Archie die two days ago or three?" James came back into the room holding a small velvet box.

I blinked. Oh, the article. Quickly I shuffled through my piles of clothing and located the paper. "Uh...the report says, from the autopsy, he must have died…" I flipped the page, "Oh! Here it is -two days ago."

"Before the one-dad disappearance then."

"Yeah."

He was quiet for a moment. "D'ya think they're all connected?"

I finally looked at him. "No. Some might, yeah. Not all of them."

"Yeah," his face grew grave, "Not all of them…"

I continued packing, determinedly fixated on everything but him. Well you surely can't act like this around him at the party.

"I wonder how the Death Eaters are doing it. How they're picking their targets and how they kidnap and kill people without anyone being for sure how."

My fingers smoothed the pattern in one of my pajama shirts. I nodded silently.

"What'd'you think qualifies someone to be targeted by them?"

I didn't realize til a few seconds later he asked me a question.

"Oh. Uh. Not sure." I winced at my obvious awkwardness. I knew from his furrowed eyebrows that my answer didn't convince him. "I guess they go after anyone who doesn't agree with them or has political power or connections...or… isn't a Pureblood..?"

His eyes narrowed as he absentmindedly played with the cuff links. With a sigh he tilted his head but didn't say more.

~~~JL~JL~JL~~~

Within the next few days there are four more disappearances, some of them Pureblood and some Half Bloods. There's one muggle-born family whose house gets set on fire. None of these reports come from around the area, so while they make for a tense conversation they don't appear of immediate threat, not really.

Until five days before we leave for the party.

It's 10:46 PM when an owl nearly smashes into the sliding glass doors. We all jump in our chairs and James drops his tea cup, effectively ruining his socks ("Leech sucking hell! That's hot!").

Euphemia set her book down and got up to open the door with a look of quizzical concern on her features. Fleamont continued eating his biscuit but watched her with one eyebrow raised.

He cleared his throat, "What does it say, love?"

James is already crouching over in his seat mumbling about tea and wet socks when Euphemia answers.

"It's from the Ministry…"

"Aha," Fleamont dropped the rest of his biscuit into his mouth, "so another 'safety tips' letter?" He resumed his read-through of the Quidditch Highlights.

"My god," James huffed. He flung his wet socks off after quite a battle. "If I have to read through another one of those stupid, 'don't go near a building with the Dark Mark above it' tips I think I might implode."

At another time, if Euphemia didn't look so pale, and I didn't think of James so fondly, I would have smiled cheekily and went, "Please do." Yet Euphemia did look pale and I did think of James fondly, hence I frowned at Euphemia and went, "Is everything alright?"

"Not quite."

Fleamont raised his head again.

"We need to visit a crime scene."

 **A/N- ha...aha... so...hi.**

 **I'm almost done with my first semester of college! Which explains why I haven't been around. Sorry about that. Suddenly I had 0 time to do anything.**

 **My phone also broke which had all the plot notes on it so I need to try and remember all the details I had planned, which might take a while? At least I'm on break now!**

 **Thanks for reading if you do! I really appreciate it.**

 **-Jackie**


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